Union
by yenne'sprose
Summary: (DRARRY slow burn. T then M) As if Harry hadn't had enough on his plate with the tournament in place, he begins to experience dreams that are starting to feel more real than when he's awake, and doesn't know what to make of it. What will he do as they string together more often and two realities begin to bleed together, effecting not only himself, but others around him?
1. Reunited Trio

**Union/1**

_A/N: We begin with a quick recap on the first task to introduce the story. Apologies that it isn't incredibly eventful, but we will get there! For anyone who didn't catch it in the summary, this will be a story about two realities colliding with each other. Also, anyone know how to indent paragraphs on here?! I'm apologizing for the lines now, because FF eats my coding for line breaks, so I have to use them to help the story flow._

* * *

The first task ended as a success, and could only be described as the most dangerous game of Quidditch Harry had ever played. It was fleeting, fierce, and blood-throttling. Not only did he come out tying with Krum- the famous seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch team- thanks to his efficient performance, but with Ron seeing what danger the tournament really entailed he was able put his ill thoughts out of his mind and the two readily swept the past few weeks behind them like old dust.

The reunited trio entered the Gryffindor common room to be greeted with great commotion: the crowded room boomed with cheers and yells from their fellow students. Having just stepped past the Fat Lady(who also cheered), they were already surrounded by towers of pastries, flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface, and banners hung that showed Harry flying on his broom with the egg on them(some with Cedric being caught in the dragon's fire). Enchanted fireworks were flying across the room, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that the twins were mostly responsible for the party. George, as Harry became aware, had been handing out flasks of firewhisky to the older students and pushed a rather large one against Harry's chest.

"I knew you had it in you Harry, that's some professional stuff right there. You'll be a shoo-in for the real deal, we need to get a scout out here for you."

Fred lifted his butterbeer in agreement and Harry flushed with embarrassment as the twins both cheers'd him. He pretended to take a long drink from the still-capped container in his grip. Eventually Lee had brought the egg back to Harry's attention as the Gryffindor champion finally made his way to an open seat, and immediately regretted it when Harry ripped the top of the egg open to release a piercing, screeching cry that rang so loud it sucked all other noise out of the room, causing everyone's hands to clap over their ears and cry out.

"Shut it! Shut it!"

Harry clamped the top shut on the egg once more, and with a sigh of relief from the celebrating crowd, they began the festivities again.

Ron came around to Harry's side with his face scrunched up in confusion.

"How are the screams of a hundred mandrakes supposed to be a clue?"

"Dunno." Harry shrugged, and tried to push it in the back of his mind as he took a bite out of a treacle tart.

Even Hermione let off about the S.P.E.W. agenda in spirit of the celebration, though Harry would catch her pointing her nose up at the wild amounts of treats she knew were obviously from the kitchens. They celebrated until nearly one in the morning, until eventually everyone petered out or dozed themselves off in a sofa or chair. Harry walked arm-over-shoulder with Ron(who had fallen prey to the flasks George was handing out) back to the boy's dormitories after seeing Hermione up her stairs safe.

"You, Harry. So great. Y'gonna- win this t..thing." Ron grumbled as Harry dropped him on the top of his bed, ripped the comforter out from under him, and tossed it back on his front.

"Yeah," Harry smiled down at him and tugged the comforter an inch more over his friend's already half-snoring form before pulling the bed curtains shut. "See you in the morning."

Harry rubbed his eyes with his hands before running down to the common room and quickly retrieving his egg. He didn't dare open it again while just about everyone was asleep, but tucked it gently into his invisibility cloak, and under his bed.

He gazed sleepily around the dorm- at the beds shadowed by curtains that no doubt held Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean each, and thought that, with them like this, he could get through this. He rested his glasses on the night table, and waited for sleep to take him as he watched the clouds pass over the twinkling stars out the window. The last thing he thought of was playing Quidditch on the back of a dragon- and that he eagerly wanted to write Sirius first thing in the morning.

* * *

Harry was laughing. He didn't know why or where, but he was. The sound reverberated around his chest, shaking his shoulders and leaving him breathless. It felt like he was laughing for the first time in his life. For once this year, instead of being wracked with worry or stress, he felt weightless. He stopped in his tracks, not realizing he had been running, and felt someone crash into the back of him, immediately wrapping their arms across his chest and pressing their face into the back of his neck.

Distorted, however still, Harry heard, "Seeing you like this, it makes me feel like there's only us."

Harry turned, and his hands bounced back at the very real warmth at the person in front of him. Who? He couldn't see them correctly. It was as if they were placed behind sea glass.

"Harry.."

He reached, and held the corner of the person's chin solidly, and brought their face closer to his, trying to focus them into view.

"Harry!"

He sat up with a jolt, effectively headbutting Ron and rising a laugh out of the rest of the boys.

"Blimey! You got me good- are you alright?" Ron sat at the end of his bed, pressing his palms into his forehead. If that wasn't rude enough for a wakening, sunlight was pouring into the room, stabbing at Harry's just-woken eyes.

"I- er, sorry, Ron, just a bad dream I guess." He only then realized though lighthearted as the dream had seemed, how tense his arms felt as he tried to prop himself up, and how a glaze of sweat ran across his torso.

"I'll say! Come on," Ron rose to his feet grudgingly, "Let's go get some breakfast. I'm starved."

"How!" Seamus gawked at him, "You pretty much ate a whole tower of pastries to yourself last night!"

Ron cast him a look and got dressed.

* * *

As though autumn had finally given in, December was met with sharp winds and heavy sleet. The fires flickered hot in the thick walls of the castle, much to Hermione's displeasure, and she started to go on about house elves and how Hogwarts was overworking already over-deprived creatures. The only real trouble that day was getting through Care of Magical Creatures in the windy pumpkin patches with Hagrid and maneuvering around Rita Skeeter's tragic methods of writing. They intercepted her wherever they could, enough to irritate her so much she left in a huff. They noticed a jagged scratch of ink her quill had scribbled across the parchment. Harry caught glimpse of a disappointed look on Malfoy's face that he didn't get a chance to gab about how _awful_ Hagrid was.

The more personal issue was that Professor McGonagall had stopped Harry Thursday after Transfigurations to have a word with him.

She cleared her throat, and settled her clasped hands in front of her to address him. "Potter, the champions and their partners-"

"What partners?" he interrupted.

McGonagall chuckled for a moment before realizing the confusion on Harry's face and remembering, given where he grew up, there was no surprise he didn't know about wizarding traditions.

"Your partners.. For the Yule Ball, Mr. Potter."

Harry stared blankly at her still.

"Your dance partners," she said plainly.

A stone sank in his chest. "Dance partners? But, I don't even know how to dance."

"Oh yes, you do," she said pointedly, straightening her back, "At least for this you will. It's tradition and you are a Hogwart's champion. So make sure you get yourself a partner."

Harry fumbled on his answer, as it wasn't so much a question to bargain with but a statement. She leaned in and set a hand on his shoulder, offering a rare, gentle smile.

"You will do perfectly fine, Mr Potter, I assure you." With that she patted him twice on the arm and dismissed him.

Harry seemed to be in the habit of putting things off with the cooler weather settling in. He decided to wait to do his homework until the last second, the egg included.. And he didn't even want to begin thinking about finding a dance partner. Leaving the hall one evening, Harry was listening to Hermione and Ron chatter amongst themselves about Fleur and how Hermione already already had a plausible date.

"What! Who?!" Ron gawked at her.

"It's a secret!" she smiled to herself and held her head a little higher.

Harry was so lost in amusement by the two, he hardly noticed when he walked shoulder-to-shoulder into another student.

"Excus-" Harry turned to apologize but his body struck still at the sight of Malfoy massaging his own arm.

"Excuse yourself, Potter," he sneered, with his Potter Stinks! badge ringing, "Didn't learn any manners in that muggle household of yours? No surprise there." Draco looked the three up and down. "I can't wait to see what a disaster this threesome looks like at the ball."

"To let you know!" Hermione stood pridefully, "Harry has already been asked as a date, and they'll be worth much more than your standards!"

Murmurs of disappointment came from lingering students. Harry gaped at her blatant lie, but quickly regrouped.

"Oh does he?" Draco curled his lips up into a spiteful grin. "Can't be all that great a date if you're the one sticking up for it, mudblood." He turned and marched around the corridor while Hermione stared after him coldly, too used to his insults to create an uproar.

Fuming, Ron stood between Harry and Hermione looking quite bemused.

"What do you mean!" the redhead waved his hands around, gesturing frantically, "I don't see any dates!"

"I couldn't just watch him batter you-" she caught their wary eyes, "You both will have dates, don't worry yourselves to death."

As if the universe was giving him a glimmer of hope, Harry saw Cho walking with her usual group of friends towards the stairs. His heart leaped in his chest with the thought of the two of them dancing together..

"Yeah.."

* * *

Please let me know what you think! Like I said, I know it's a bit of a slow start, but, introductory chapters are necessary I feel. Thank you for taking a chance on my story! - Yenne


	2. Dates Made

**Union/2**

_A/N: Welcome back! Thank you for coming to read the second chapter. After this one, we'll be really diving into the plot that I have set out, which I'm very excited for. I think have no way for line breaks other than the horizontal lines, I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much! Luckily this chapter doesn't really have a need for them. Enjoy!_

* * *

The end of term came rather quickly, blindsiding Harry and Ron. Noisy rumors filled the halls and classrooms, taking up much of the students' attention. Most of the teachers had given up on teaching them, seeing no point in trying when they were obviously so preoccupied. The only one who truly held fast to their regimen was Snape, who was pleased to let them know he would be testing them on antidotes during their last lesson.

Harry tried to keep his mind on the holidays, but Hermione made a point to remind him about the egg he was needing to solve. He hissed at her to drop it as they were walking out of the dungeons after potions class. Apparently word had gotten around that Harry had presumably already gotten a date for the ball, which meant the majority of the girls he'd be interested in didn't even think to ask. A particularly brave Ravenclaw came up to him during one breakfast and, in front of all his friends, asked him to drop his date for her. He decided to not explain that he didn't actually have one, seeing as how that wasn't the type of person he'd want to be dancing with anyways, and declined.

They were walking down the hall when Harry caught a glimpse of Cho emerging from Defense class with one of her friends. Gulping down his fear of rejection, Harry quickly turned to his friends and told them he'd meet them at dinner. Ron grinned after him, knowing exactly what he was doing.

At least he can solve one of his problems today. He walked toward her with a hurried pace, and called out to her when he got a few feet away.

"Cho! I, uh-" he stopped in his tracks when she and her friend turned around, her smile striking down whatever courage he'd mustered up. It didn't help that her friend was staring at him annoyed either.

"Yes, Harry?" His stomach lurched nervously as her voice rang in his ears like bells.

"I was just wondering.." He turned red at the puzzled look on her face, "The ball is coming up, as you know, and, I just thought- I mean, you're a girl, and- we both play Quidditch and-" He was looking anywhere but her now, growing redder still as he rambled and finally forced out, "Do you want to go to the ball? With me I mean?"

"Oh Harry.." Her response came quietly and... What was that in her voice? Pity?

He darted his eyes back to her face, taking in her expression. Definitely pity. The air seemed to suck out of his lungs.

"I've already said I'll go with someone else." Her face started to go red.

"Oh."

"It's- it's Cedric." Even redder.

"Oh.. right."

They stood there for a moment staring at each other, and Cho was brought out of it by her friend tugging her robes.

"Well, b..bye Harry, I'll see you around!"

"Yeah," and he watched her be pulled away by her friend, his head beginning to pound with embarrassment.

Of course she had already been asked to the ball. It was his fault he waited so late- and by Cedric! Of all people.

A chuckle from behind him pierced his thoughts, and he turned around with his face still hot.

"Trying to use your fame to get as many girls to go with you as you can, Potter?" Draco was standing with a triumphant look across his face, Crabbe and Goyle flanking his sides sniggering. Dread washed away his embarrassment from before.

"Not now, Malfoy," he growled out.

"Oh, don't let me keep you from going to your dorm and sulking," he said with false pity, "And here I thought you'd already had a date, even above Granger's standards. Oh! How terrible."

Harry stared daggers at him. "Who I take to the ball is none of your business, Malfoy."

"Apparently it's none of _yours_ either!" Draco was cackling now, as were his goons.

"Piss off." Harry turned and walked briskly away, not bothering to look at the students who had listened to the whole thing. Who were, to his dismay, whispering among themselves just loud enough for him to hear.

"_Harry Potter? He doesn't have a date yet!_" - "_There's still a chance!_" - "_What happened to his other date? You don't think-_"

He darted off around the corner, keeping his head down, and made his way to Gryffindor tower, not feeling like dinner whatsoever. Once in the common room, he noticed Ron sitting in a corner with Ginny, looking particularly sullen with his face pressed into his hands. He put aside his sour mood and made his way over to them.

"Ron?" Harry reached out and touched his friend's shoulder, who looked at Harry with what could only be described as a mix of horror and nausea.

"You... okay?"

"Okay? _Okay_! No, I've got to be mad to have done that!" Ron slapped his face back into his hands and Ginny moved to rub his back soothingly.

"What? What have you done?" asked Harry. When Ron didn't answer, Ginny decided to for him.

"He asked that girl from Beauxbatons, Fleur, to go to the ball with him." She grinned once she'd said it, obviously amused, but Harry's expression was a shocked one. He quickly snapped out of it and had an idea

"Ron, come up with me," Harry laced his arm under one of Ron's to bring him to his feet, "I've got something that'll help us out."

"Us?" Ginny piped up as they started to leave.

"I was turned down just before I got here by Cho," Harry responded grimly. Ginny looked away as Harry led her brother up the stairs to their dorm.

"You've got to stop having to have me help you up the stairs- you're taller than me, you know, it's awkward with your legs." Harry let him go and Ron threw himself face down onto his bed. Harry felt a strong sense of empathy for Ron. Surely he hadn't been made fun of immediately after like he had been, but he knew that Ron's ego wasn't that great to begin with.

"Don' unersphan hut ot nto mmmnee." Ron droned into his pillow, roughly being made out as "Don't understand what got into me," by Harry.

Suddenly remembering what he brought him up here for, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the flask George had given him the night of the celebration, still full to the brim. He tossed it onto the bed next to Ron, causing him to look up at it, his face eyeing it questioningly.

"S' that?"

"Firewhisky," Harry grinned at him as he popped up faster than a niffler after a galleon, and grabbed the flask off the bed.

"Harry! How? You're underage!" He was looking at it mesmerized, like it was a glittering jewel, holding it up to get a better look at it. "Did you sneak over to Hogsmeade and sweet talk it out of someone?"

"No!" Harry laughed, "It's from the party a bit ago, George gave that to me and I hadn't touched it.

"Oh Harry, you're my bloody hero." He twisted open the top and gave Harry a look. "Can I?"

"Yes!"

He took a grateful sip out of the container, humming his approval before handing it back to Harry, who also took a swig.

"So," the redhead started, smacking his lips satisfactorily, "You got turned down too, eh?"

Harry frowned, and passed the flask back to him. "Yeah. Much worse than you got I bet."

"What happened?"

"Malfoy saw the whole thing and practically laughed his head off," he spat, with anger and embarrassment bubbling in his chest.

Ron's eyes widened as he brought the flask back down from another drink, sputtering. "He what!"

"Yeah, I guess on the bright side, the whole school's bound to know I'm up for grabs again by now."

"I'll kill him." Ron peered at his friend, whose face was getting pinker by the minute, as was his own from the liquor pooling in his stomach, "I'm in a right mood and I'll do it."

"It's okay, not like I didn't ask for it by waiting so late." Harry sighed into the drink and took another gulp. "I'm always procrastinating."

"And Malfoy's always been a prat."

Harry grunted in agreement.

"Bet McGonagall'll go with you!"

He and Harry laughed.

This went on through the night, them bantering on about the ball and musing who they'd try to ask next, passing the firewhiskey back and forth until both of them were laughing stupidly at their suggestions(which got more and more ridiculous as time went on), faces flushed.

"What about Millicent?" Harry was laughing even before the name left him.

"Bulstrode?!" Ron guffawed, "You mean _Bullfrog_!"

They hooted and laughed for a whole minute before Ron looked up at Harry, face red with laughter.

"I bet you a whole galleon Crabbe and Goyle are going together!"

They bent over with laughter, clutching their sides. Ron waved the flask around, listening to the contents inside notably emptier than before, and then knocked back another drink.

Harry chuckled and took it from Ron and set it in his lap. "Careful, we still have to go to lessons tomorrow." Ron groaned and fell to the bed on his side.

"Hey, Ron?" his friend perked up and gave him his attention. "I mean, we can go together if you like. It's not weird, you know, we're best friends and it's not like we have to be.. Romantic."

Ron choked on seemingly nothing, and sat back up coughing violently. Harry was watching him, eyebrows raised, as the redhead caught his breath.

"Harry! No!" Ron stared at him like he'd grown another head, "You're a champion! You have to dance in front of the whole school in the beginning." Harry laughed softly at that, having forgot that detail.

"Right, you're right. Hey, you want to run down to the common room to see who's still awake? The others aren't up here yet."

Ron nodded in agreement and got to his feet clumsily, as did Harry. He made sure to kick the flask under his bed before they started for the stairs.

They finally made it down into the common room, only tripping a couple times on themselves, to find the Weasley twins, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ginny, Hermione, and a few others still down there, some working, some chattering among themselves. They walked over to the twins, faces still flushed and the two immediately chuckled upon seeing them.

"You little devils, you."

"On a school night, too!"

"Can't really blame you though, heard about the girls."

"Terrible luck."

The buzzing warmth that surrounded Harry and Ron seemed to subside and they frowned at one another. The twins took this opportunity to hang their arms over either boy's shoulder and bring them in.

"Don't worry!" Fred started loudly, gaining the attention of the common room, "I'm sure there's _bound_ to be _someone_ who wants to go as your date!" He eyed the room expectantly and wiggled his eyebrows at a few girls that caught his eye.

Harry and Ron immediately pushed their arms off them and gaped at the two.

"What do you think you're doing!"

"Just trying to help out a fellow brother, Ronnie." George stuck him in the ribs with a pointed finger. "We can't have you be the only Weasley around that hasn't had a girlfriend yet."

"The only!?" Ron looked at them incredulously. "You've had a girlfriend before? You?"

"Oh loads," they said in unison. "They love the whole twin thing."

Ron wrinkled his nose at them.

"And you have a date? Each of you, to the ball?"

The twins gave each other a look and turned away from them, shouting pointedly at the group of girls Fred at eyed earlier.

"Oi! Angelina!" Said girl looked up from her conversation, "You and a friend want to go to the ball with us?" Fred pointed his thumb to and from him and George.

Angelina looked them up and down for a moment and then, "Okay," she shrugged and went back to her conversation.

Harry and Ron stared with open mouths.

"It's that easy? You just-" Harry looked back at the group, who was starting to pack up and leave, "Just like that?"

"Yep," they said.

Harry eyed Parvati and Lavender come through the portrait hole and pushed past the twins and Ron to head over to them, courage burning in his belly.

"Parvati! Lavender!" They stopped and turned to him. "You two want to go to the ball with Ron and I? You know, as dates?"

Parvati giggled before responding, and Lavender looked away with pink cresting her cheeks.

"I'll go with you Harry! Lavender here, though, she's going with Seamus."

Harry's excitement was halved.

"But, my sister, Padma," she looked over Harry's shoulder to Ron and waved at him, "She hasn't got a date yet. I bet she'll be thrilled to go with your friend." She smiled genuinely at Harry and turned to go on her way with Lavender.

Harry skirted across the floor quickly and grabbed Ron by the shoulders, shaking him.

"We've got dates! We did it!" he said loudly.

Ron cheered and the twins chuckled to themselves, while Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes at them.

Feeling loads better than before, the boys went back up to the dorm and got settled into their respectable beds. _One problem solved_, Harry thought, _Tomorrow, the egg_. As he closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep, he thought about how much he'd love to jump ahead in time to see the look on Draco's face when he sees him with a proper date. His heart gave a small sputter, to which he ignored.

* * *

_A/N: Another chapter in! Please tell me what you think. The next chapter, as stated at the beginning, will dive right into the direction I want this to go. I'll be going over this chapter like the last one, too, once it's live and read it once more to make sure there are no mistakes in spelling, etc... Well, see you next chapter! - Yenne_


	3. That Isn't Normal

**Union/3**

_A/N: Here we are, three chapters in. Time to stir the pot and get this plot moving. Thanks for sticking with me and reading, I hope you like where this is headed. Reviews, pm's, anything helps!_

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and found himself in Hogsmeade. At least, he was sure that was where he was. He remembered settling into his bed after asking Parvati to be his date to the Yule Ball, and then he was here: standing before the Three Broomsticks. He shuffled his feet a bit on the cobblestone walk, feeling the rocks and dirt grit beneath the soles of his shoes before testing a step forward. There was a light dusting of snow across the village, and the community bustled to and from shops with parcels held in shining, metallic wrapping overfilling their arms. He watched a greying witch pass in front of a shop, to which the enchanted entrance started to sing carols, while other doorways belted end of season sales at passersby. But, he thought, the students and teachers had already had their visit to Hogsmeade last month, in November where there wasn't anything close to snow. How was he here, now?

"Are you coming in or not?"

Harry looked up, and, was met with confusion. Of all people he could have imagined, Draco Malfoy had his head stuck out of the door to the pub, staring pointedly at him. He glanced around, and noticed no other students paying any mind to the blond, not seeing even Crabbe or Goyle with him.

"Me?" Harry couldn't have looked more befuddled. He should feel angry, right? Or annoyed? Why was Malfoy talking to him?

The boy shook his head and walked out towards him, snow landing on his thick winter robes and melting quickly into the fabric."Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to? Come on, then, you're asking to catch yourself sick." As he spoke, Malfoy reached out and took hold of Harry's wrist. Harry was urged forward by something that wasn't himself, his mind focused on the warmth seeping through the Slytherin's glove. It was then he realized he wasn't wearing any himself, likely an oversight from the excitement of the Hogsmeade visit. His feet felt like they were made of lead as he was guided on.

Words fell past his lips unintentionally that he couldn't hear, but that made his apparent friend smirk as they walked through the pub's door. When they stepped through, the scent of holly, butterbeers, mulled mead, and pumpkin pasties were heavy in the air. The place was lively with students, older witches and wizards alike, laughing and telling stories about family or past holidays. The Madam had put up classic decorations for the season, mostly natural garland with baubles hanging from it. The ceiling had also been enchanted to look as though it were sprinkling snow over the heads of the patrons, which dissipated into the air just before touching the tops of their heads.

The blond led him to a table off in the corner by a rather large Christmas tree, and waved over Madam Rosmerta. Harry sat dumbly in the chair beside him, his mind buzzing with questions.

"I know we promised we wouldn't talk about studies-" Draco was interrupted as Rosmerta dropped off a pair of butterbeers for the two and slipped a small portion of mead over to the Slytherin with a wink, their usual- _wait, how did he know that?_ -and Draco nodded in thanks, "-but we really need to get you up to par on your Arithmancy. I know you don't have to do the exams this year, but you're still complete rocks at it."

Harry swallowed hard, and noticed his voice wasn't carrying its usual sharpness or cold bite. He sounded different, perhaps close enough to friendly as he could have imagined. Casual is what he settled on, but what about Arithmancy? Harry hadn't elected to take that class. He didn't get a chance to respond as they were quickly joined by Pansy Parkinson, Hermione, Ron, and a pale blonde girl with a wispy look about her. He stared at them all, absolutely dumbstruck.

"Hey?" His voice was coated thickly with uncertainty.

"Hey yourself, what's with the strange face?" Ron reached over and, to Hermione's displeasure, took a long sip of his butterbeer.

He heard Draco chuckling lightly next to him, and the blond nudged him with his shoulder. "I even so much as mention Arithmancy to this one and he goes completely stumped."

Hermione turned on him. "Oh really, Harry! I've told you multiple times we can do our homework together," she said incredulously, "Pansy's been getting a lot better after my tutoring."

"Tutor, you? Her?" Harry looked from his best friend to the girl sitting beside her in disbelief. He couldn't ask much more, as the four in front of him turned to one another and started talking about their plans for Christmas gifts. Stress and bewilderment pulsed through Harry's body, and his heart jumped into his ears, muffling the conversations around him as if they were underwater.

Suddenly his throat felt very dry. With a shaking hand, he brought his bottle of butterbeer to his lips and took a large gulp. He looked between the silvery blond, his friend, his own best mates and the stranger with was laughing with the two Slytherins, all his walls and snide comments put aside. Hermione was smiling that genuine smile she normally only shared with himself and Ron at two people they had quarreled with all their years thus far at Hogwarts, and then there was the out-of-place girl next to him. Harry was lost.

"-ke up, Harry."

He was snapped from his thoughts to look into the wide, glossy eyes of the blonde girl.

"What was that? Sorry."

She stared at him blankly, and he had noticed all the movement around him came silently, as if a _silencio_ charm had been cast.

"It's time to wake up, Harry."

"What?" His already loudened heart became a deafening thud in his ears, and his breath became ragged. Had he been breathing at all? The girl's face was stoic, and she seemed to look right through him.

"Y-you.. do.. Do you hear anything? Is this a spell?" He stumbled over his words as he looked frantically at the scene before him, at the soundless laughter and noiseless clinking of glasses. "Please, what's happening!"

"You don't belong here."

Without another word, she reached out and clamped her hand on his shoulder, thrusting him into darkness.

* * *

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and sat up so suddenly he had fallen off the side of his bed and managed to get tangled in his bed curtains. His breath came in pants as his sight darted around the room and came to realize he was back at Hogwarts in his dorm. He heard a shuffle behind the curtains of the bed in front of him and saw Ron's eyes peering down at him.

"All right, Harry?" His voice croaked out with sleepiness.

Harry took a shaky breath and balanced himself on his bedside as he stood.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks." He pulled himself back into bed and laid flat against his back.

"Mmpph." Ron slapped his curtain back in place and in no time at all was snoring softly.

Harry slowed his breathing, and lifted his hands to his face, smearing the sweat that coated him.

It really was a dream, then. But it was so real. His wrist tingled in remembrance to being pulled along by a certain blond. As he stared down at his wrist in awe, he realized his heart was moving rapidly in his chest, pounding against his ribcage as if to escape. He pressed further into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

A dream. It was a dream.

Harry stayed awake in bed the rest of the night, not trusting his subconscious to not wrack his brain with further oddities. He lay on his side, eyes fixated on the window as he watched the sky gradually dye itself from deep purple, to pink, orange, and finally a soft smearing of yellow-orange.

The boys around him shuffled out of bed, grumbling and yawning, and made their ever-slow routine of getting ready seem like ages to Harry.

"Harry?" came a soft voice from above him.

He shifted his gaze and saw Ron standing above him in his dressing gown, with worry plain on his features.

"Last night I remember you fell out of bed. Everything alright?" Ron's eyes moving along his face, taking in the circles that were imprinted below his eyes.

"Nightmares is all." Harry sat up carefully and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He watched as Ron studied him while he stood, clearly thinking he was hiding something.

"No worries, Ron." He offered his friend a small smile before rising and starting to ready himself for the day.

When Harry got to the great hall, his friends had already sat themselves together, leaving a space beside Ron and Neville for him. Almost a minute after sitting down, Ron leaned over to Harry and spoke in a loud whisper.

"Any chance you've gotten along on that essay for Snape's, have you?" Ron raised his eyebrows playfully.

"No, I have not, no chance of you getting ideas from something that isn't done." He dumped a few sausages onto his plate and reached for the toasts.

Ron slumped next to him at his words, doing everything less than admitting that's what he was aiming to do. Neville suggested Ron borrowing his Remembrall to help him get his work done next time, which gained a haughty response from the Weasley.

Harry avoided Hermione's gaze all morning, afraid of what her eyes may offer him for fear Ron had mentioned his strange behavior over the night. It was easy enough, as she was busy flicking through the Daily Prophet, pointing articles out to Ginny who was beside her.

After breakfast, the usual trio walked through the corridors and headed for the lower east floors for the last History of Magic lesson of the season before holiday- which meant later that day, they had double potions to begrudge as well as the test Snape surely had waiting for them.

Harry groaned at the thought of his day. He should've forced himself back to sleep.

Hermione began reflecting on their last lecture about goblins on their way out of the hall and had Harry the opportunity to chime in on what he had been paying attention to last week, he would. Unfortunately, he was cut off when the trio turned the corner into the classroom, effectively running his shoulder directly into a Slytherin on their own way out and causing them to stumble forward, no doubt a result of his insomnia from the night before.

"Sorry, mate, I wasn't watching where I was walking," Harry turned to apologize while readjusting his robes, "Are you alright?" He went to reach out to pat the student on the shoulder in apology and found his hand being smacked away by Malfoy, who had a sneer painted across his face. He, while fluidly fired up, had Harry frozen by the sharpness in his eyes.

Harry could've slapped himself for being so careless as to run into him twice.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? Get your glasses jinxed?" The words were cast at him angrily. Harry didn't respond immediately, but only stared on at the boy in front of him. His eyes darted to the Potter Stinks! badge still pinned on his robes and he wondered to himself how this person was so different than who he had dreamed of. How on earth could his subconscious change someone so drastically?

"Shove off, Malfoy, maybe don't stand around in doorways." Harry was, to his own thanks, brought back from his thoughts by Ron retorting against the Slytherin.

Malfoy stepped closer, only focusing on Harry's lack of response. Harry's own friends closed in at his side to deter him.

"What's wrong, Potter, that scar actually a crack in your skull?" He looked down at him and then flicked his eyes back to Harry's. "Not that it'd matter, you're rocks enough in potions to prove your stupidity was gifted in the womb."

_You're rocks..._

Harry bit back his response unwillingly, something pulling back an insult toward him. To his dismay, he kept his eyes steady on the silvery grey ones before him. The blond's features flashed with the image of the kinder face he'd seen in the early hours of that morning. Harry blinked once and it was gone.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go have a seat and wait on instructions from the professor." His friends locked their arms in his and pulled him away to a desk and set themselves around him. Ron clapped his hands onto his own knees and turned to his apparently mute friend.

"Well, I'll just come out and ask. Why the hell didn't you stick up for yourself?"

Confused, mostly with himself as well, Harry simply did not have an answer. He didn't know how to say the man before him looked actually pleasant before turning into a spitting snake again.

"I don't know, I'm probably just getting over last night's rough sleep is all." He plucked his glasses from his nose and rubbed his eyes.

"You'll be back to yourself after a good night's rest," Hermione offered, turning a distasteful glance to Malfoy, "Unfortunately, _he_ will always be like himself."

Harry nodded in agreement but found it hard to keep his gaze off the offending party as they lingered outside the class before the bell rang to signal off their first lesson. He watched as Draco and Blaise bounced quick conversation back and forth, no doubt about the scene that had just unfolded.

No, there was no way this person could change so drastically. His hypnotic stare was interrupted by Professor Binns clearing his throat to gather the class's attention.

History, with little surprise, was extremely dull. Take that, triple it, and add the unbearable weight of Snape's unblinking gaze to equal their potion's class that day. Although he didn't speak hardly at all, Snape had loomed over Harry nearly the entire lesson, making it excruciatingly difficult to concentrate with the feeling of the oily eyes boring into the back of his head. He knew he'd put down the wrong ingredients one or two times just so the man hadn't accused him of slacking off.

Finally, the bell rang, and everyone hurried to gather their things.

"Remember, class, when we come back from holiday, we will be revisiting antidotes as a result of so many failures I already see. I expect perfection."

The students gathered their books and hurried to the door, eager to start the last meal leading into their break from lessons, and also out from the scrutiny of Snape's heavy gaze.

* * *

Dinner went on insufferably slow for Draco until he found himself in his house's common room with Pansy trying to catch up on work left over from their lessons. That was the intention, anyways. His focus wasn't what it normally was as he couldn't help but wonder if his rival was up to something with that display earlier.

It wasn't until Pansy jerked the quill out from his fingers he had been tapping away at his parchment, with ink spattered on the previous inches he'd already written.

"I haven't seen you this nerved since that Mad Moody turned you into a weasel! What are you so preoccupied with?" Pansy's normally hard-faced expression pinched in concern at him. The blond crumpled the essay he had started in his hands tightly, not bothering to charm off the unintentional ink, and dropped it carelessly.

"Just lost in thought, Pans. I was trying to find a way to make this History essay anything else than an endless channeling of Binn's droning on paper."

Pansy was satisfied by this it seemed and raised a brow playfully at him as she handed him back his quill.

"Try not to fall asleep writing it if you can. Honestly, I don't know why they justify keeping that dreadful spirit here," she laughed at her own words, "if you finish first, why don't you look at mine, too?" She leaned in at batted her eyes at him expectantly.

"Of, course, I'm always willing to help a struggling witch or wizard," he said sarcastically, glancing at her out of his eye's corner.

The brunette scrunched her face at him and went back to her own writing. He had already pressed the tip of his quill to the fresh parchment to begin again, simultaneously trying to push aside the images that infiltrated his mind earlier that day. He'd been upset enough being shoved at, though turned to something he hadn't expected. The emerald of Harry's eyes was bright, penetrating his own mercilessly. There was a shimmer inside of them, something playful. At first, Draco had thought he had seen him mouthing something to him, however grew more frustrated when the image was replaced with the confused image of the other wizard standing before him, looking dazed.

He stood suddenly, taking his quill and parchment with him to the boy's quarter's, bidding his friend a quick goodnight. She started to ask him to stay up a bit longer, but he turned through the doorway without another word to her. He reasoned with himself that the holidays, events at hand, and the strange happening were clouding his mind and he needed proper sleep.

* * *

_A/N: There you go! I actually edited this a ton and took out a lot of excerpts because they'd fit better, I feel, into the next chapter or one after that. So, the next chapter is already put together, I'm just needing to proofread it for any mistakes. I know I kinda tossed you in here in an unfamiliar setting, but I swear it will all come together! Thanks for reading!_


	4. Subconscious Torture

**Union/4**

_A/N: More interaction occurring this chapter with our pairing, and next time you'll find out who the mysterious girl is in Harry's dream. Enjoy! PS: For anyone who doesn't remember, Snuffles is what Sirius asked them to call him while away at Hogwarts._

* * *

Everyone in fourth year was given hefty amounts of work to do over the holiday, but Harry and Ron found themselves preoccupied with wizard's chess more than anything. There were numerous students that had signed on to stay over break, as a result of the ball or wanting to mingle with the students from the other schools, and the two found it hard to do much else in the seemingly smaller common room, lest they went out into the wintery fairytale that was the castle grounds.

Harry let Ron beat him for the fourth time that morning. He was happy to be distracted and really just playing to pass the time. Harry had always had trouble with accomplishing restful sleep, so his friends were easily convinced that his foggy mind and zoning out was due to daydreams or stress with the ongoing tournament.

He would agree with that reasoning himself, if it were not for how often, and unabating the dreams were in their feelings of actuality. Even in his waking hours, they came to him in slow, pulsing waves, images from his nightly adventures that would swell around his mind like a high tide. He strained at times to hold them there and remember what he saw. When the waves pulled back, he was left with a dull headache.

Last night was thankfully a mostly dreamless sleep, with what he could only recall having been flashes of pale yellow, lips pulled into a smile, and the warmth of a fire that he still remembers cradling him as he woke up this morning, again just before twilight.

"Harry, _come on,_ it's not any fun if you don't even try!" His friend grumbled in annoyance as he rearranged the rather bored looking chess pieces for them to go again. "What's wrong anyways?"

He sagged in his chair and looked apologetically at his friend. "Sorry, just haven't heard back from Snuffles since his congratulations on the first task, and..."

"And, it's almost Christmas, and you're still having nightmares I imagine?"

Harry looked up at him in minor surprise. "You knew?"

Ron rolled his eyes at this. "Come on, Harry, we're right next to each other. I can practically hear you shaking in your sleep."

"Shaking?"

"Yeah, I can hear your teeth chattering and it wakes me up. Then it stops and I know you must've woken up again."

Harry caught a tightness in Ron's voice that indicated he was trying to hide his worry. He was speechless, primarily taken aback by Ron's attentiveness. Thankfully Ron decided to fill the lag in conversation.

"Anyways, look, don't worry about Snuffles. Pigwidgeon is probably just taking a bit in this weather," he gestured to the fat snowflakes tapping against the windows, "I wouldn't put it past him if he stopped multiple times for rest. Little bugger."

"Yeah," Harry watched as the board was at last reset and felt a little more at ease with not having to pretend that he wasn't utterly exhausted, "You're probably right."

When Ron didn't have any response, he raised his gaze to see the redhead looking on at him intently. He went to ask why yet was interrupted by his friend himself.

"I'm not saying," he started carefully, "that I'm entitled to know anything going on with you just because we're best mates. I just want to make sure, is everything alright?" Ron surveyed Harry with furrowed brows as he waited.

Harry wanted to tell him everything right then, about how he would wake up completely winded, as if rather than sleeping he had been doing laps around the castle- or about how elaborate his dreams actually were. However, as the idea arose, it quickly simmered down, as he realized he may cause real worry in his friend who would undoubtedly tell Hermione everything as well.

"I'm just having some rather extensive insomnia with the stress of everything going on," he heard Ron exhale as if he were holding his breath for more, "but, if it'll make you feel better, I'll go back up before lunch and have a rest."

Ron cleared his throat and nodded towards him. "I think that'd be for the best. I didn't want to say anything, but you look like hell." He grinned at him. "You're probably the reason our dates haven't come over to say hello all break so far."

"You wish, they probably caught wind of your dress robes."

They shared a laugh, finally breaking the tension that had arose, and agreed to play one more match before Harry retired for a welcome nap.

Harry won this time.

* * *

As Harry was getting accustomed to finding himself waking up in a dream, this time hadn't come to much of a shock to him. It still took a moment for him to focus on key differences from his day-to-day life to remind himself where he was, but he ultimately succeeded. What he hadn't expected was to open his eyes to a familiar setting, with the burning of frustration and humility already sinking in.

He watched as the tail-end of Cho's robes disappeared around the corner, and the same stone of rejection settled heavily on his chest. He then became aware of a presence behind him, turning to find Malfoy standing a stride away with his hands clenched and ears red, shining brightly against his pale-yellow hair. Now he was sure his subconscious was torturing him.

"I thought you already had a date to the ball, Potter?" Malfoy spat the words at him, and they cracked at Harry like a whip.

Harry tried to muster his own anger to snap back but faltered when he saw the expression in the Slytherin's eyes. They weren't mocking or cruel, however held a shocking brilliance of purpose. The blond's jaw clenched as he seemed to bite back something he wanted to say as he waited.

Not backing down now, Harry said with whatever spite he could find, "It's none of your business who I take to the ball, Malfoy."

Malfoy had cleared the distance between them in a blink and took the front of Harry's robes in his fists, boring his eyes so hard into Harry's that he felt a rush of cold pass through him. He came to notice that the hands balled against his chest were shaking.

"Well I'm making it my business!"

The breath was pushed from his lungs with the force Malfoy collided his lips to his own and a wave of heat quickly replaced the cold airlessness. It rippled through him, reaching out to the palms of his hands, which he realized now had shot up to the blond's shoulders before him, however unsure if he were holding him there or trying to push him away as he found himself unable to move. His eyes remained wide in shock as he felt the Slytherin's hands snake around his neck, the boy's lips continuing to move against his.

Harry could feel the heat radiating from Malfoy's cheeks, and felt his own face grow hot as he noticed the goosebumps springing up on the back of his neck where Malfoy's fingers were tracing the skin.

The warmth that was coursing through him was slightly subdued when Malfoy broke the kiss between them and fixated Harry with his gaze. How had he not noticed these glittering grey eyes all the other times he caught them? Harry's body was buzzing as if urging him to act. He watched the steely eyes drop to watch as his tongue darted out across his lips and found Malfoy's mouth curling into his usual smirk.

He leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear, who couldn't hold the shiver that ran down his spine at bay when the breath tickled against his skin.

"You can't back out on me now, Potter. You're mine for the ball."

Harry swallowed hard as Malfoy backed up enough to observe the stunned look on his face. Though, as soon as Malfoy's eyes made their way back to his own, he watched a slow, but obvious change in his features. The grin fell from his face as he stared on into Harry's eyes, and then Harry felt it: a feeling like a magnetic pull between them. There was a flicker of something in the stare still locked on his own that sent a jolt of electricity across them, causing both of their eyes to go wide, and then they were gone.

Harry and Draco awoke at the same time, neither one of them making a move to get up from where they had settled for rest, nor feeling rested one bit.

* * *

Draco found his hands clenched around either arm of the chair he had dozed off in earlier, and a fresh coat of sweat trickling down his neck. _What in Merlin's beard was that?_ He glanced around the common room where many of his Slytherin counterparts were gossiping back and forth or enjoying the decorations- even the eerie green glow from the lake seemed festive this time of year -and exhaled with relief that no one had paid any mind to his ruffled state. At least instead of an odd dream, he could blame the sweat on the fire he had sat himself in front of.

His stomach clenched in remembrance of what had just occurred. No, of what he had dreamed. He sucked his lips together and bit at them in annoyance as if to punish them for what they did, clearly against his will. He stood suddenly and found himself stumbling back into the chair when stars appeared in his vision and a feeling of faintness carried him backwards. He put his face into his hands to bring himself together, and once his vision cleared, he was filled with a mixture of anger and confusion.

This wasn't a normal occurrence, though he hated to admit it also was not the first. Ever since almost a week ago now, each nightly incident became more vivid than the next. Some with similar events, some as a normal day at the school. He needed to see Potter, he needed some answers.

"I see you've decided to grace us with your presence again, sire!"

Draco almost jolted out of his chair in alarm as he turned towards the voice and saw Blaise in a low, satirical bow beside him. Without missing a beat despite the now piercing glare of his friend, Blaise continued on.

"My liege, the duchess and I were hoping you'd make your company known at our midday meal." Zambini raised his brows at him and glanced back towards Pansy, who was waiting near their portrait.

"Blaise," he cleared his throat, hearing the irritated tone in his own voice and said more lightly, "enough theatrics. I'll come along, just go ahead of me."

His friend rose and settled a hand on his hip, clearly unsatisfied with his response.

"_You_," he said pointedly, "missed out on breakfast, and going to the library with us, to doze off here," he gestured to where the blond sat "- and you think I'm going to let you escape another meal to wither away?"

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Blaise pulled him out of the chair by the arm and dusted his hands over the blond's robes to straighten them before he could say a word.

"I think not!" His friend said dutifully, and within a second Draco found himself being nudged toward Pansy, her eyebrows raised, and a hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter.

"Blaise, you're too cruel to him," she laughed, "He's only just woken up." She pouted out her bottom lip and fixed her eyes on Draco. "We know you've got to be hungry, Drakey, and it wouldn't make me a good date of yours to let you go famished."

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line at the nickname she had bestowed him and kept moving towards the portrait and out into the hall with them trailing behind. He quickly placed his usual bored expression on his face and turned to them as they caught up.

"You're right, I am hungry. If only they would allow us to pay extra for room service here." He flattened his hair with his hands and adjusted his collar to its appropriate straightness.

"You know that old fool of a headmaster wouldn't allow that," Pansy retorted, "Especially now with that bucktooth Granger girl and her petition for… what was it, Blaise?"

"Equal rights for house elves as magical creatures. You know, pay, time off, the whole outfit."

"Absurd!" She shrieked.

They made their way to the great hall, and found a seat by Crabbe and Goyle who both had plates already piled high with no surprise to anyone. Draco rolled his eyes at the two, but not out of nastiness. If there was one thing these two were passionate about, it was food. He himself opted in for something lighter and pulled a small piece of roast chicken towards him and a dollop of sprouts.

The group talked for the most part amongst themselves, around their normally leading friend who managed along the conversations with an occasional grunt or soft chuckle to acknowledge what was said. As he poured himself some black tea with honey to top off his meal, Pansy squeezed into his side, and smiled widely at him.

"Drake," she bit her lip, trying to act cutely towards him, but instead looked more on the pinched side, "What color should my dress be?"

He took his time, stirring his tea to feign thoughtfulness, when truthfully, he hadn't even thought about that. He had already had his dress robes packed without any thought of trying to match another person. His father already informed him of the events happening at the school thanks to his position with the ministry. He looked at her from his eye's corner and took a long sip of his tea before responding, relishing in the warmth that poured into him. Pansy was doing everything but shaking him to respond, as she had her hand around his arm to bring the tea down to the table, and her eyes bulged out at him.

"Draco Malfoy!" Her voice was stern, "Appearances are important! Tell me, what color are your robes and I'll see what I can work with?" She patted his arm anxiously, as if to speed him up.

"Black."

"What?" She scrunched up her face at him.

"My dress robes are _black_. Velvet." He responded in a drawl, to which she exclaimed excitedly at the ease of matching. He took another quick sip of his tea only to find himself choking on the hot liquid when his eyes caught a familiar unkempt-haired boy tottering through the crowded hall with his two mates toward their house table.

Pansy cried out and patted him between his shoulder blades, gushing over him with overdramatic worry. Draco paid no mind to her as he continued to cough into his sleeve, eyes steady on the back of Potter's head as he seated himself across the hall. He wasn't letting him get out of his sight now, not when this may be his only chance.

* * *

Harry sat himself clumsily between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, off-balance from his streak of unrestful sleep, choosing to ignore the worried glance Ron eyed him with. Being that his exhaustion was affecting his appetite, he began to wonder how anyone ate three meals a day as he stared at the toast and marmalade Hermione pushed towards him. Despite the noise of the densely crowded hall, he cradled his face in his hands and closed his eyes. No matter what he did, he couldn't push the memory of Malfoy's lips flush against his own. _Think, think about anything else. _He thought about the egg he still was nowhere solving. He thought about the useless clue Cedric had given him just two days prior. He thought about Cho… She was so pretty, and such a talent at Quidditch. Then there was Parvati… he was happy to have a date with someone who could have easily had one by now. She was nice enough, and got good marks. He could at least show her a good time.

He exhaled slowly and dropped his hands from his face to see an unexpected sight.

_No._

He rubbed his eyes quickly as if to push away the scene around him. He was very plainly sitting in what seemed to be a dorm in Slytherin tower, on the edge of a four-poster bed with the rich emerald curtains drawn. His head ached as he darted his eyes around the room, and was pulled back to where he was by a rather annoyed voice interrupting his reeling thoughts.

"Ahem. Are you paying attention? This is important to me, too, you know."

His eyes focused on the person standing off to the left of the dorm room. In front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of his dress robes, was Malfoy, mumbling about how pertinent appearances were to Malfoys as a whole. Words flew around his mind, questions about how he'd gotten there, accusations, anything else than the words that seemed to come from another place.

"I wouldn't be paying attention to anything else." Harry's throat clenched as the words left him, and an odd feeling of admiration flipped around in his stomach. To his dismay, the boy before him smiled softly at him from the reflection and smoothed out the front of his robes.

Harry's heart began to flutter against his ribcage. How did he get here? He was just… well, he couldn't remember where he had been before this, but he knew it certainly was not here. Trying as he was, he couldn't remove his gaze from the slender blond before him. His robes he had dressed in were a rich, dark velvet that was fitted around his form elegantly. The shoulders were strong but lean, and his collar was high and modest, accentuating the slenderness of his neck. Harry's eyes trailed down the length of his arms, and hips, to the expertly shined shoes before he quickly willed away the prickling heat rising to his cheeks.

The reflection had turned before he registered it, and Malfoy was facing him directly now with his arms out to his sides as if to showcase his outfit.

"Well, how do I look?" A twinge of nervous questioning trailed at the end of the Slytherin's voice, and Harry wondered how, despite all the absences of imperfection, could someone be nervous around him about their looks. He met his eyes and pushed back the fleeting feeling that rushed over him when he found the prior sparkle in the grey eyes of the person before him. He found himself speaking words that again weren't so much his own, although he didn't think that in this moment he would have changed them either way.

"You look beautiful."

"Er- thanks, Harry?"

He was brought to the hall suddenly, the scene coming back to him as the vision dissipated from view like a mist. Ron was staring at him with half a biscuit in his mouth, and had the twins guffawing behind him. Hermione and Neville were particularly interested in an article in the Daily Prophet, trying to hide their amusement behind the paper.

Fred came around and draped an arm around Harry's shoulders, still sniggering.

"Dreaming about love, are you? Don't worry, your date with Pad—er, Parvati will go swimmingly. She's been gushing about you to us ever since you asked her."

He caught the distant, flushed look on Harry's face and a grin swept across his features. "Don't worry, even if she turns out to be a rotten date, I'm sure you'll have your chances with other girls," his smile grew ear to ear as he leaned in closer, "Or… blokes?"

"I am not interested in blokes,' Harry snapped, batting Fred's arm off him.

Fred held his hands up in surrender and backed his way to George again.

"All's I'm saying is you have options. That's all." The elder twin turned back to his biscuits with a wink.

Harry felt a tingling up his spine and carefully looked behind him, remembering what happened the last time he felt the presence of someone. Ironic to what Fred had said, the eyes of Malfoy surveyed him across the other tables, his gaze unwavering as if to make sure he saw him staring. Noticing he caught him, Malfoy stood and walked towards the hall entrance, not disconnecting his gaze until it would have been an effort for him to look backwards.

Taking a quick gulp of pumpkin juice from a stray cup before him, Harry excused himself and followed the blond swiftly out into the corridor.

* * *

_A/N: So, as we can see, things are progressing more and more with Harry and his visions/dreams of what he can only describe as dreams, while Draco's are a bit more subdued. Still, they have some things to talk about. Harry is being flip-flopped right now, and Draco gets to kind of be along for the ride for now. I'm hoping you'll all like the next chapter!_


	5. Acknowledgement

**Union/5**

_A/N: Welcome back! Here's a little what to expect in this chapter: Harry's as well as Draco's friends begin to see the unnatural behavior between each individual. I know probably with a couple details.. like keeping her as his date.. and this chapter.. you may think this is a PP/DM thing but I hate that pairing more than life itself, so trust me, I'm only mentioning her affection for the story, ha. To the chapter!_

* * *

Seeing Harry leave abruptly, Ron rose from his seat to follow but was stopped by Hermione gripping his sleeve's hem.

"Where do you think you're off to?" She asked him simply, without looking at him as she was still focused on the paper before her.

"What do you mean 'where'? He never just gets up and goes off like that alone, we need to check on him!"

Hermione looked from the paper to him finally with her eyebrows raised at him impatiently but softened when she saw his face was pinched in concern, and she felt a pang of guilt for keeping him from going after their friend.

"When have we ever known everything that is going on with him?" She watched his face fall. "It could be something secret between him and Dumbledore, or Snuffles even." She released his arm and patted the seat where he was before. "It's hard to get used to someone that may be forced to secrecy. However, we have to support him as his friends."

Ron plopped back down in his seat with his arms crossed. He knew she was right, as she always was, yet he couldn't nudge the feeling that something was just wrong here. He decided that, much like the bushy-haired girl next to him did in previous years, it was time to meddle.

* * *

Harry entered the corridor and casted his eyes warily from his right and left to not find a trace of Malfoy anywhere in sight. He sighed exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair, and was about to turn right back into the great hall when a small ball of light, roughly the size of a golden snitch, darted in front of him and bobbed up and down in the air.

He watched as the light zipped away and ducked into the widemouthed hall that led to the entrance of the courtyard, leaving a faded twinkling trail behind it. Taking the hint, he followed suit, and as he turned the corner, he watched as the light receded into the tip of Malfoy's wand. Harry watched as his lips curled in amusement at the look of wonder on his face and recomposed.

"What was that?" he asked, trying to not sound too impressed.

"Child's play," the blond said passively as he tucked his wand back into his robes, "I'd use it to mess with the house elves when I was younger. Now let's make this quick, Potter." The blond peered around to make certain no one was eavesdropping on them.

Harry tilted his head at him. "Make what quick?" He watched as Draco parted his lips and wet them with his tongue before speaking again, and his heart skipped around in his chest in wonderment of what he may suggest next.

"I'm going to need you to not play dumb, as we only have moments left before lunch ends and we're swarmed by a crowd expecting a row." Harry felt the pressure of Malfoy's grey eyes weighing into his. "I need to know what you've done to me so I can fix it."

He squinted his eyes at him, still not understanding and the skipping of his heart flattening. "What do you mean?"

"_What_-" he annunciated each word slowly "-did -you -do -to -me?"

Irritation bubbled inside of Harry, not appreciating being made out to be an idiot.

"I haven't done anything to you, Malfoy," his voice came bitterly, "Unless you can elaborate a bit more, I still haven't eaten yet today." He made to leave yet was frozen in place when long fingers shot out and curled around his wrist. The contact soared through his body and the air began to hum around them, with the world suddenly feeling as if it were moving under his feet, and he stumbled to lean himself on the wall. Images had sprung across his vision, flickering by like a broken cinema player, and they were quickly taken away when the fingers that were on his wrist wrenched themselves away.

He whipped his head around and saw the Malfoy mirroring him, seeming to be similarly affected.

"That," Draco panted out, "Is what I am talking about."

Harry sputtered out his words, heat bursting to his cheeks at the thought that the boy before him had been seeing the same things he had been all along.

"You've been seeing things, too?"

Draco nodded and resituated himself to lean comfortably against the cold stone of the wall, taking a deep breath.

"Though I hate to admit it, yes." He eyed Harry's bewildered face and continued, "Judging by your look, you had no part of jinxing or hexing me, did you?"

Harry shook his head, although more interested in something else, "Tell me, what are you seeing? Can you remember anything?"

Color budded across his pale cheeks but he held the pleading green stare, determined to not let himself waiver. "Things that are not there. Asleep, and now-" he motioned his hand to gesture what had just occurred "-awake."

Harry pressed on. "But what have you-" "That's not the point!" Draco interrupted fiercely. "The point is," he willed his voice to be calmer, "that it needs to be taken care of. I can't go around having these… illusions. I have a reputation to maintain. So, what do you plan to do?" He felt the residual bite in his tone simmer then, feeling the calming effect from the emerald of Harry's eyes seep into him even a few feet away.

Harry's stomach, however, dropped, and he wasn't sure why the thought of losing the visions left him with an empty feeling. He reached back to rub at the base of his neck and cast his eyes to the floor.

"I haven't even begun to think about 'fixing' them, I don't even know how or why it started."

Draco exhaled through his nose and fixed his lips into a line. "Well, you best go figure it out. There's bound to be something in the library." He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked past Harry in the direction back to the hall.

"Malfoy, wait!" The Slytherin turned halfway to give him his attention again, his eyebrows lifted curiously. "Don't you want to join me? We'd cover more ground with both of us looking."

Unsurprisingly, the Malfoy heir made a pained face at Harry and scoffed at him. "As lovely as being graced by the Boy-Who-Lived for an afternoon reading sounds, I think I'll pass." With that, the left.

Harry's face relaxed and the furrow between his eyes finally faded, and he murmured to himself, "Okay, well that could have gone worse." He stepped around the corner and watched for a moment as the slender form of Malfoy moved away. He shook the blooming thoughts from his mind and decided that if he were going to look for a solution, he had better start now, and made his way to the library.

To be entirely fair, Harry was not at all certain of what he was looking for. All he really had to go off of right now was he had been seeing things that weren't there, illusions as Malfoy had put it. In the library, it would be an effortless task to find at least one book that hit the pin on what you were searching for, yet here Harry sat, guarded behind a leaning tower of scrolls and texts that held nothing of exactly what he was experiencing. He found one or two books, both of which contained explanations of sleep deprivation and the side effects, then another where an old wizard went mad after the loss of his wife. A thick, leathery book with pages worn, and faded with a liquid he hoped was water, held two more unfavorable options. One, put very simply, was a false memory charm, however this didn't explain the constant changes at different times, he felt. Someone would need to be near them, monitoring them. The other had Harry wishing he didn't even come into the library, mostly because he didn't understand what some of it meant without Hermione around to explain which made him need to pluck another few books to look up the details, and the other was because it would take an incredibly talented _Legilimens_ to induce these visions at, once again, a continuous and ever-changing rate.

Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes after pushing the books away from him, trying to seal everything he had read in his memory. This had to have been more reading than he had done thus far in the school year put together. Falsifying his satisfaction, he waved his wand to sort the texts back into their proper places and headed on back to the common room to actually make an effort to work on his professor-given studies.

While Harry was off doing what he was more or less tasked to do, Draco had caught back up with his group of friends and they all decided it'd be nice to go out to the Black Lake to skid rocks along the hardened surface by the shore. Blaise was trying to demonstrate to Goyle that he wasn't supposed to blatantly toss the fattest rock at the ice, to no avail as the hefty Slytherin heaved another stone a ways out where the ice sheet was still forming, effectively creating a large crater. Crabbe, on the other hand, seemed to have a knack at it and he and Blaise had a friendly competition on who could knock out each other's tosses into the crater Goyle had created prior.

Draco himself was sitting cross-legged in a wide circle of grass he had used a hot-air charm on to quickly melt the snow and dry the damp ground, watching the lighthearted scene before him with one arm propped up behind him and the other with Pansy tucked under it as she tried to keep warm, so she had said. Snowflakes still littered loosely from the sky, but the clouds had parted enough for streaks of the sun to cast down and offer a sheet of warmth over the students. The ground glittered around them almost blindingly with the sunlight against the stark white that had fallen, and he noticed how serene this landscape should make him feel, however it little did so as he couldn't help his mind straying every now and again to his rival, wondering if he may have found something on the matter at hand.

He felt the girl beside him shuffle closer as they saw their friends returning to them at a hurried pace, and he noticed that one of them, namely Goyle, was soaked through, and had a thin sheath of ice forming on his robes. The warmth at Pansy's side left her as Draco leapt to his feet and speedily swept a hot-air charm across their friend whose trembling subsided and lips went from pale blue to their normal pink. She looked on and admired the rare sight of Draco caring for their friends. She had watched him grow increasingly attached to their group over the years, and even with his cool, bored nature, he showed he cared when it counted most.

With Crabbe and Blaise going back and forth at what had caused Goyle to somehow to try fetch a rock he threw on the ice, they all agreed that had been enough excitement for the afternoon and retreated into the castle. As the blond lead the way, Pansy and Blaise exchanged a look to remind themselves of the silent pact between them.

Earlier that day they had stayed near their friend in the common room while he slept, as suggested by Blaise to show Pansy what he had been noticing at night in the dorms.

They watched him a few strides away, when he rested back peacefully by the crackling fire for about twenty minutes. They were in the middle of conversation when out of the corner of their eyes they saw his body seem to seize up. Pansy had stood to wake him up, yet Blaise put a hand on her shoulder to keep her back for her to see what had been happening. The tone of their friend's skin dipped in color and his fingers dug into the plush arms of the chair as his face twisted in frustration and jaw went tight. This went on for another few minutes before Pansy's bottom lip trembled as her eyes followed the newly forming beads of sweat rolling down his paled face, and she couldn't watch him suffer anymore, even if it wasn't physical pain. Her friend caught the desperation in her eyes and whispered to her to go wait by the portrait and try to straighten herself up. She covered her mouth and watched with worried brows while Blaise muttered something under his breath with his wand barely poking out of his sleeve to not draw attention from the other students in the room, and saw Draco's face gradually soften, however still with his fingers clutching desperately at the chair's fabric.

Blaise strode over to her and she turned on him instantly. "He's been having nightmares?" Her voice trembled at first before fury whipped up inside her. "How long has this been going on," she snapped, "No wonder he's been so worn out!"

"He isn't in any danger, Pans," he said gently under his breath, "just comes and goes. I will check on him later to see if anything's going on and fill you in." He glanced back at a soft shuddering breath that came from the chair to see Draco had roused, and quickly turned to the girl again with a finger pressed to his lips before going to greet the freshly woken blond.

Lunch seemed to go normally from their perspective, sans for the normally chattering boy only offering a few words for conversation, and then abruptly getting up from the table without a word to any of them, leaving the hall.

"Is something wrong with Draco?"

Blaise and Pansy snapped their heads around and saw Crabbe and Goyle staring after their friend as he left, and both silently decided to not tell them about what they knew from the look of concern that had befallen them from only him leaving so suddenly.

"He's alright, sorry Crabbe," Blaise offered his usual charming smile, "He probably forgot to mention to you two that he wanted to go fact check Snape on the controversial use of a potion ingredient and knew that the Professor's pride wouldn't allow that with an audience."

Pansy's eyes bulged at him, impressed at the quickness and genuine sounding lie the boy produced. She reached out and took a sip of tea she had poured earlier, quickly reminding herself to never cross him. This seemed to satisfy the two beefy Slytherins next to them as they both turned back to their now dwindling plates of lunch, looking disappointed at the meager amounts of crisps left.

Pansy let out a quiet sigh of relief and locked her eyes on Blaise's intently. Getting the message, he nodded in acknowledgement to let her know he remembered what he had promised earlier.

Then here they were, all trailing to the common room once again. Goyle suggested a game of gobstones but that idea was quickly stricken down by Pansy due to the stink the stones made when you lost. A wicked smile rose to her face then, and she suggested they still play, but over by the Gryffindor tower entrance as an ode to their Potter Stinks! badges. Everyone hooted in laughter except for Draco, who chuckled under his breath although agreed, nonetheless.

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_A/N: This may have been a bit boring to some, sans for the interaction between our two boys, but the fill-ins are necessary to give perspective on the oncoming events. Stay tuned! -Yenne_


	6. Intervention

**Union/6**

_A/N: Listen, before I go any further, I had someone reach out to me wondering if this is a "Drarry" story. It is, sorry to disappoint, I don't know why the pairing didn't show up on the story search, but here we are 13k+ words in and I'm not about to change that, and it's a slow burn. Really if anyone has questions, please message me, I'm here as your resource. Trying to keep up and catch up on writing after taking on more responsibility at work and my entire family's birthdays happening at once in a row is proving to be a task. Oh well! This is giving me a great relief from my days. This chapter leaves off where the last one did only for a moment. Review, pm, all that good stuff so I can know what you think!_

_Also, this chapter came out to over 7k words, so I had to split it. I'm working out a smoother transition now!_

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The Gryffindors were for the most part in the common room today, the outside proving to be too harsh to venture through the heavy bouts of snow dropped across the castle grounds like fat dollops of cream. His two friends were sitting across from him, Hermione reading a passage from _Hogwarts, A History_ to Ron who feigned interest a little too exuberantly by nodding at every other thing she read and keeping his eyes wide with what Harry assumed he had meant to be interest but really just looked like he had drank too much Pepper Up Potion. They had spoken about visiting Hagrid earlier that morning, but upon opening the door to go out towards his hut they were met with a wall of thick white that rose to above their hips. Hermione paused in her reading after regarding a passage now from Bathilda herself, and she and Ron stared past Harry with looks of curiosity. He followed their gaze and found a rather nervous looking second year holding a rolled parchment stiffly out in front of himself toward Harry. Being met with Harry's gaze, he immediately glanced once at the scar and looked bashfully at his feet.

"I was told to deliver this to you," he squeaked, "It's from Professor McGonagall!"

"Right, thanks, er…" Harry paused in taking the parchment from him, raising his eyebrows in question at the young boy.

"Perry! It's an honor to meet you, I'd have never had the courage without a reason to-"

"Thanks, Perry," he took the parchment from the boy's hand, not really having the energy to humor another Colin Creevey-type individual at the moment and turned his back to him.

He could feel Perry standing behind him still for a moment before he heard his steps running off.

"That was a bit rude, don't you think?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Oh, come off it, he's gotten enough of that over the years. I don't blame you, mate."

"Just not in the mood today," Harry unrolled the parchment from McGonagall and frowned inwardly, and further so at the text as he read. "She wants to see me. Doesn't say what for, though."

Ron leaned toward him with his eyes on the back of the paper. "I wonder what she needs from you?"

"It's got to be about the ball," Hermione suggested, "It's right around the corner, after all."

"I suppose so. I better get it out of the way, then." He rose from his seat and waved to them unceremoniously as he made his way to the portrait. Behind him, Hermione had narrowed her eyes at Ron knowingly, but continued where she left off in her passage.

It was now one day and some hours until the ball and tried as he might Harry couldn't conjure the same festive mood the other students were expressing. Not having heard from Sirius still seemed to amplify his exhaustion, with his post always acting as a stimulant for Harry- which he very much was in need of. There had been no signaling nor hint of message or anything thus from Malfoy to instigate a meet-up between them to elaborate on what he had found in the library the other day, and there was no spark of imagination on how to further investigate from himself.

Normally he would have three heads working together on whatever he was facing: his, Ron's, and Hermione's- however he still has had no desire to let them know about what was happening, let alone with who. Although the looks of concern and constant check-ins from Ron, and Hermione as she noticed the sunken look about him, should probably feel endearing to Harry, he could not help but feel exceedingly harassed. All the while, the ever-real dreams wracked his subconscious and body continuously.

Harry meandered down the halls and took the staircase unrushed, trying to grapple at strands of what McGonagall could want to talk to him about. If it wasn't an important tradition, he wouldn't have worried too much about the ball anyways, it was only when she instructed him that he needed a partner did it really fuss at his mind, and now with that taken care of after rejection, humiliation, then success, he's certain whatever is to be said is just a courtesy from her.

Once arrived at her office, he knocked on the door although it was cracked wide enough for him to see her with her head down, jotting down notes in a book on top of her old desk.

"Come in," she answered without looking up at him, not pausing for a moment in her writing.

As the door creaked open further for Harry to step inside, she glanced up and smiled at him, waving him to come in and shut the door behind him. Harry always thought her office seemed like a cozy nook in someone's home. She had her small desk in a corner pressed against the wall with a window directly above it that looked over the training grounds as well as the pitch, and a fireplace that was kindling brightly. Unlike Snape's or Filch's office, she had a nice, although rather dusty, ornate rug that covered much of the hardwood floor.

"Mr. Potter, I'm glad you came so quickly. There's something I'd like to discuss with you," McGonagall pushed the book aside, and flicked her wand to conjure a wooden chair a comfortable space away from her own seat in front of her desk, "If you would, please sit." She nodded to the seat expectantly.

Harry did not make to sit, simply starting, "Professor, if this is about the ball, I've got my partner, so there's no need to worry."

She pursed her lips in a small ball of amusement at him but shook her head. "I'm afraid there's other matters at hand. Please, sit," she repeated, and turned her own chair to face him.

He sat down awkwardly, finding not having a table to set his hands on rather off-putting. Minerva gazed at him for a moment, seemingly inspecting him to choose her words correctly. She nodded to herself and met his eyes attentively before speaking.

"Well, Potter, no point in masking anything," she admitted, "I must say you are lucky to have friends that care about you so."

He stared on in confusion, the lost look plain on his face.

"I've been informed you have been having some difficulty getting proper sleep and judging from the luggage you're carrying under your eyes, I am going to agree." She looked on at him worriedly. "Mr. Weasley has also mentioned you haven't been eating?"

An unnerving feeling prickled on the back of his neck.

"I may have been having… some trouble getting rest."

"And, the nightmares? Is something troubling you?"

Harry felt like a child being questioned about their behavior. Something bit at the back of his throat, almost edging him to argue with what Ron or Hermione may have said, but he stopped himself, knowing better not to challenge his head of house. In place of this he felt a goblin with a small scale in his mind weighing how angry he would choose to be at his friends.

"Nothing, Professor," he started, yet caught her eyes narrowing, "just the dance, and the second task will be here before you know it is all. I still haven't got a clue about it." He looked away from her, afraid she'd be able to read through his excuse, but felt relief when he heard her sigh and open a small drawer at her desk.

"Understandable, I told Albus this would be hard on you, however," the older witch pulled a crystal vial out after rummaging around and eyed it for a moment before continuing, "the tournament has its own rules, and you cannot break them or you would surely face the consequences. Here, take this," she reached the vial out to Harry, who took it carefully in his hands as if handling a small bird. The glass was cool, and he watched the deep purple liquid moved thickly inside of it, becoming distracted as it seemed to shimmer.

"Sleeping Draught, Mr. Potter. It's a heavier formula meant to be taken in doses; I suggest ingesting a small amount for tonight to see how it affects you." She smiled gently at him now, a rare gift from the usually stern witch. "I imagine after a proper sleep you should be feeling a bit more like yourself."

"But, Professor, I-"

"No 'but's about it. Now go on, and tuck that somewhere safe until tonight so none of your _curious_ friends find it. Poppy will have my head if she finds out I'm treating a student myself. Off you go." Another soft smile, and she turned back to her book of what he assumed now was a journal.

Harry sat there for a moment in disbelief. He couldn't reason with himself why it was so, but a feeling of betrayal twisted around his gut. He stood from his chair and shoved the potion into his pocket, thanking the professor with what kind tone he could force out before leaving the office hastily for the common room. As he planned to go straight to his dorm, he was caught off-guard by Dumbledore waiting outside McGonagall's office.

"Ah, Harry, just who I was hoping to see. I was about to ask Minerva if she could send for you to lend me a moment of your time." His blue eyes twinkled as he peered down at Harry from his spectacles. "I hope you will accompany me to my office?" The headmaster extended a starry, purple robed arm out in front of him and began a slow pace onward.

Knowing it would be implausible to believe this as a suggestion, Harry hopped into step with the older wizard, forbearing his frustration from his previous encounter.

* * *

Draco felt as though his mind was thumbing through the hundreds of emotions it knew of to pick out the one that best fit what was arising in him with the sight that just left him. Worry, pain, anxiety, anger… His mind couldn't decide so they all twisted and knotted together in a dense ball in his stomach.

He'd come to in the library, where he and Blaise had decided to take a break from the noise of their common room. Pansy had at first insisted she come along, but Blaise had told her they needed some quality "guy time" as he put it. G_uy time _consisted mostly of sitting in silence, usually studying or reading, eating, and poking fun at other students, or if not any of that, Blaise would talk to Draco about Quidditch. Seeing as Quidditch was cancelled due to the tournament, there wasn't much of that going on, so their encounters were rather dull.

Blaise was sitting across from him, flipping through a book that looked like some of the pages were actually old cloth, completely unaware of the melting pot of emotions going on inside of him. Previously he was kneeling beside the stilled form of Gryffindor's Golden Boy outside of the great hall before he watched as he was taken away by Pomfrey and Snape to the hospital wing.

He knew it was a dream. He knew now that he was here, with Blaise, and all of that shouldn't matter, but the sickening feeling stayed with him. He already convinced himself the cold he felt on the old wooden table was what chilled his palms and not the cold skin he'd tried rousing a moment ago in his daydream. What he couldn't shake was the unnervingly peaceful look on Harry's face, as if he was lost in a long, deep sleeping.

"Where have you gone off to, Potter?" Draco cursed himself as the words left him, though hushed he knew it wouldn't pass Blaise unacknowledged.

"Potter?"

He shut his eyes to recollect and opened them to see his friend studying him closely, amusedly, and could halfway imagine a devious tail flicking back and forth behind him. He cleared his throat and tried to pull something together.

"Yes, Potter. You know him. Always trying to show off or going on some secret task…"

"Mm, I suppose you're right. Sorry I'm such dull company that your mind wanders."

"Not at all, it's nice to let it. I don't really have freed moments of thought when we're around all the others. How else would I keep face?"

"Right."

Draco caught Blaise's lips twitch into a quick smirk before taking a sip of cider and did so himself. It had been this way for the past couple of days; Draco falling in and out of sleep while studying or relaxing with his classmates and ending up in a puzzling or otherwise haunting scene. He took to mimicking the motions of those closest to him to normalize himself among everyone. Blaise had confronted him about his peculiar behavior days ago, and Draco had come up with a half-ass excuse about his father he was sure Blaise knew was untrue but accepted anyways.

Blaise's attention was drawn back to the scrappy book in front of him, and Draco let himself ease back into his seat. In only the few days it had been since his encounter with Potter he had been chased, embraced, kissed, harassed, and now this. He still wasn't sure what to call it. Surprised, maybe? Not entirely shock, but it was still too much of an uneasy experience to narrow to just surprising…

"Unsettling."

Draco's eyes snapped into focus on his company again, who had just clapped the old book shut with such force he was sure the tattered thing would turn to dust right then.

"Excuse me?"

Blaise raised an unamused eyebrow at him and shoved the book closer for him to read the book's title, which was in need of some serious maintenance as the etching was so faded they were lucky the light helped shadow the impressions.

"_The Calamitous and Deplorable History of The Triwizard Tournament_," he murmured, "I know we aren't particularly fond of the contestants, but I wouldn't wish any of this on them. Page 109 was enough to make my stomach turn over."

Draco swallowed the sick feeling that crawled up his throat and pushed the book back to his friend.

"I'll take your word for it. I don't feel so well, actually, I'm going to head on back." Draco faltered a bit as he stood, unnoticeable to most, but not his overly observant friend.

"Do you want me to accompany you? I find it depressing to be here by myself anyways."

"I'll be fine, I know you wanted to stop off by the kitchens beforehand." He watched him cross his arms in front of him, clearly unconvinced, and sighed, "I am _fine_, Blaise."

"Right, well if you fall down the stairs and break your neck, please don't return to haunt me as I've offered my assistance." Blaise tucked the old book under his arm and rose to return it to its shelf, and Draco grimaced as he noticed a streaming trail of dust falling from it as he walked off.

He knew Blaise would most likely mention this to Pansy later, but he needed to get away from him, and from that book. He had already seen a probable dead body in his mind, he didn't want to read anything that would lead up to it. His mind was heavy as he walked down into the cooler, damp air of the dungeons and if it weren't for the set of hands on him, he would've strode right past Pansy, and another girl he didn't know the name of but recognized from classes.

"Drake! There is someone who is _interested_ in _meeting_ you." The eager yet fierce look in her eyes told him this was not your average introduction.

"Come on, Pans, I'm needing a kip. I'll meet your friend later." He glanced quickly at the girl she had assumedly meant, and nodded to her. She was attractive, with fair skin and pale strawberry-colored hair pulled into a twisted braid. Today just wasn't the day to try and make any acquaintance, especially since he knew this was just for Pansy, to douse another hopeful girl's romantic feelings towards him by laying open claim under false pretenses. "Another day."

"Ooh, Draco Malfoy, you are unbelievable! Two beautiful girls want your attention, and even that isn't enough for you!" She threw her hands back down to her sides and glared after him as he moved past their portrait, to which he didn't pay any mind, just happy to have a moment to himself, and to his reeling mind.

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**A/N: I hope this wasn't too terrible to read, I'm a bit rusty! I'll start uploading the next chapter later tonight. Happy reading!**


	7. Take the Lid Off

**Union/7**

_A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Happy reading, all!_

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Dumbledore was silent most of the stroll to his office, only asking Harry how his holidays were turning out and if he'd tried a particular candy from Honeydukes before. After this, they walked quietly the remainder of the way. Walking alongside Dumbledore eased Harry's nerves, as he had always given Harry a sense of reassurance and fortitude. They reached the gargoyle, where Dumbledore muttered the password, _sherbet lemon, _and climbed up the steadily rising staircase.

If it was one thing Harry really admired about Dumbledore, it was consistency. The office remained untidy yet was clearly in an arrangement where the headmaster could easily find any artifact or book that crossed his mind. Fawkes stared curiously at them, shaking his wings in greeting as they entered, on the same perch, while the portraits though rarely changed were either eavesdropping or resting peacefully in their frames, or were otherwise gone, drawn to other stimulants.

"Tea?" Dumbledore's offer surprised Harry, and he stuttered his decline while the older wizard poured himself a rather steep-looking cup of black tea.

As he had made to sit at his usual seat behind his desk, Harry settled on the other side, happy to rest his forearms on the top of the cool wooden surface. He and Dumbledore sat in silence as he waited patiently for him to take a healthy drink of tea, and after a moment he couldn't resist his curiosity.

"Professor?"

"Hm?" Dumbledore glanced at him over his still steaming cup and nodded at once, as if he had forgotten Harry was there and needed reminding himself. "Yes, yes… Harry, there were some things I wanted to ask you about."

A small twinge of disappointment tugged at his heart, half expecting something exciting, but now it seemed this was just skipping back to what his head of house had wanted to go over earlier. Even so, he offered his attention, tilting his head toward the headmaster to grant him his questions.

"I had an interesting encounter just a couple of days ago, regarding a certain student, informed to me by a very confident source." He settled his teacup on the desk with his hands clasped around the body.

Harry stared on, not really sure this was so much like what he and McGonagall had discussed earlier after all.

"After, and I do apologize, having an ear to yours and Minerva's discussion this afternoon, I have reason to be concerned my source may be more accurate than what I had thought."

"Professor McGonagall and I were just discussing my sleep habits, I've been having some trouble lately," Harry tried.

Dumbledore raised his thin eyebrows at him unconvinced.

"I do believe you take my role here lightly, Harry. I know much more than what the average student may like me to," he caught Harry's guarded look, "I don't fuss over trivial day-to-day matters of the students, and in this circumstance there is no real interfering I can do anyhow." He canopied his fingers and rested his chin on them, laying his stare heavily on Harry now.

"Have you ever considered that there is not one, but many paths in your life that are available for you to take?" The headmaster questioned, "And that quite possibly those paths still exist in another time, a place that we are not aware of but are accessible if the will and magic of a person was concentrated enough?"

Harry began to speak but Dumbledore cut in could he could start.

"I won't hide from you that it seems you have discovered, or at least stumbled upon, that very thing, and that the pull is so concentrated that it is slowly winding you in. It is a very persuading thing to gaze into another life, however if you aren't careful you'll find yourself lost and won't be able to come back." Dumbledore's expression became grave, "Or, you may find yourself unable to stay in one place."

Harry stared at his own hands, trying to piece together what was being said.

"Professor… I'm not sure I understand. These dreams-er, nightmares, that I'm having, are you saying they're real? Just as much as right here and now?"

Dumbledore almost looked apologetically at him. "You must understand, there are many selves of an individual, Harry, you are simply living as one of those selves right now." The calmness in his voice his hit Harry bitterly, curdling into a thickening layer of anxiety around his mind.

"Surely you don't mean I've been living… in two places? Sir?" Harry's eyes pleaded at him as a wave of realization swept over him. The reason he was so tired wasn't because of insomnia, it was because he was awake, living and experiencing another part of him. Harry suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong and began to panic.

"P-professor, I don't know what caused this, I," he was silenced by the headmaster raising a hand to stop him.

"None of us do," Dumbledore raised himself from his seat and came around to Harry, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Harry, I've read more texts than I can accurately number, and in all my years I've only heard of this happening once in my lifetime before, and another an ancient time ago. I do not have a suggestion on how to stop it, or deter you, however, I do have some information to offer you, whether you find it comforting or alarming."

Harry's eyes sagged shut and he pressed his palms into his forehead. The thought of Dumbledore being powerless to something happening was just the tip of the iceberg for him. Voldemort, the tournament, lying to his friends, Sirius not communicating back, and now this.

"You yourself are the only one with a true connection at this time that we know of with another path, and in such are the only one who can take yourself there. I can at least assure you that have you any need to return you will have help along the way. I believe you and one of the _pathseers_ have already crossed one another."

Harry looked up then and saw Dumbledore's periwinkle eyes sparkling down at him in wonderment. "Mr. Potter, I am admittedly quite envious. The doorway is within you, just make sure you remember the way back."

Hard sleet pelted against the window, infiltrating the intense conversation they were having and bringing a sense of realness to it all as well. Harry drifted his eyes along the many trinkets in the office, the books, the portraits, and he did wonder to himself what more may be waiting for him in a different place.

Dumbledore's hand slid off his shoulder then and he made his way back to his seat, taking a long drink from his tea. A strange feeling arose within Harry as he saw how at ease the headmaster was.

"Professor, are you not worried about stopping this at all? I mean… gathering what you've said, you basically stated I'd go away from this life. What will happen here?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly and thought carefully before responding.

"This time will continue to carry on. Your mind will simply drift to that other place and you will take residency of your role there. From what I've read, it's as if you were putting on a different pair of socks for a matter of time. It's a window, or a closed door, and you decide what it is to yourself." Fawkes trilled in the distance and Dumbledore waved his hand at him dismissively, and the phoenix stretched its wings wide before gliding out the window Harry now noticed had opened.

"The only true advice I can give you, as I haven't experienced this myself, is to mind The Guard of Pathseers when they present themselves. One of the very few happenstances I mentioned to you ended in a very catastrophic, confusing, and hurtful time for wizarding communities here and elsewhere, and The Guard is there for that reason." Dumbledore smiled at him then, "I must say if I was gifted this opportunity, I would not waste it. Now, I believe you were… off to somewhere before I so rudely disrupted your plans?"

Harry staggered to his feet, still not really sponging in everything that had been said to him, however so being able to contemplate the different paths… the opportunity… but The Guard? Harry doubted even Hermione knew a book ancient and passed down long enough to explain this.

"Thank you, Professor, I… don't really know what I'll do, you see, I can't really figure out everything. That is to say what causes… these windows, as you put it." Harry's face freckled with red when Dumbledore's chuckle sounded in his ears.

"I am certain you have an idea, or else I trust you and I would have never had this conversation. I have full confidence you will succeed wherever you choose to belong." The look Dumbledore gave him sent a strong feeling of comfort, yet somehow at the same time sadness trickled through him, and not knowing what to say next he turned from him quietly and exited from the office.

In the far corner of the headmaster's office, a voice carried over to Dumbledore. "Do you believe it was wise to give the boy that information?"

Dumbledore nodded to himself and glanced in the direction the surveyor of the conversation, whom stayed out of sight despite it being just the two of them now.

"I have a surplus of faith in Harry. The goodness of his heart gives me solace that he wouldn't do anything too… drastic."

Although no sound of amusement came from his company, the headmaster could hear the mirth in their voice. "I would say time will tell; however, time means nothing to a wizard who can move through it."

After not offering anything in response, Dumbledore felt the presence of his guest leave as he stared out the window Fawkes had flown out of, deep in thought.

Harry hurried up the stairs to his dorm, ignoring the noises of a game of Snap in the common room and thanking the commotion for aiding him in coming in unnoticed. He didn't know what to do with the information he was just offered… It felt as though Dumbledore expected him to do something, but what?

He sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh and fumbled the vial McGonagall had given him earlier out of his pocket. Licking his lips, he eyed the dark, glittering liquid, turning over in his hands. A good, full cycle of sleep should help him get in the correct state of mind to make sense of all this.

Without another thought, he popped the top off of the vial and took a small sip of the concentrated Sleeping Draught, almost immediately falling sideways against his bed as a heavy blanket of sleep shrouded over him.

* * *

To any onlookers it would appear that he was lost in thought, perhaps gazing out longingly to the endless glowing green of the lake's waters and wishing to look onto the beauty of the white landscape surrounding the castle from his window instead. They would, however, be wrong. He was staring through himself, into the translucent reflection of his eyes looking back at him. He'd been here like this for some time, emptying his mind, closing his eyes for a brief period, and going back to staring into himself once again.

As far as his rivalry with the infamous Harry Potter has come, he had never any true desire for his demise. No real vengeance to be tolled. No need for extreme violence or curses. It was all nonsensical bickering, stemming from the spat that started the feud when they were younger. Pranks, harassment, bullying, everything being a result of that day. Now all he can think about was the cold of Harry's arm seeping into his palms, as if trying to suck life back into himself. The incomparable heaviness that surrounded his heart, and the pulling feeling that came back time and time again after telling himself it wasn't real was unshakable.

He drew a long breath in through his nostrils, closed his eyes once again, and exhaled slowly. _It wasn't real. _Draco opened his eyes and stared intently into his reflection and past it he saw a school of small, luminescent fish dart in front of his window. He watched them swirl around each other, dive down and swim back up past his view, and something clicked in his mind. He needed to see him to believe it, to really know that he was alive and to put this behind him.

Bound and determined, he sucked in a breath and stood to his feet. Never in his days did he think he'd be seeking out Potter to check on his wellbeing. He made a mental note that in the end it was for his own peace of mind, not the boy in question. He took one last look at his reflection and as he turned to leave, he couldn't stop the surprised yell that left him.

"Singing harpies, Blaise! How long have you been sitting there?!"

His friend was perched on the edge of his own bed, chin resting in one of his hands and a mischievous grin splayed across his face.

"Oh, just long enough to wonder if we need to send you off to St. Mungo's." Blaise shook his head, still smiling, "Pansy told me you blew off her and some pretty girl earlier, I wouldn't have imagined it'd be to look at your own reflection. How vain!"

Draco rolled his eyes at him. He'll never be used to Blaise's sense of drama.

"It's not that, I was just-"

"I know."

Draco peered over his nose at Blaise, trying to hide the fact that his nerves were at their wit's end at the thought he knew anything about what was going on.

"You know what, exactly?"

The rampant beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it was audible. Blaise's smug expression fell from his face and he looked at Draco plainly. This was the _I Mean Business_ Blaise that the world most commonly saw.

"I know that something, not having to do with your_ father,_ is up, and I know that something has to do with him."

Draco held his gaze, daring him to continue.

Blaise tilted his head towards him and spoke a bit more hushed: "_Potter_."

A mixed wave of nervousness, relief, and irritation moved through him rapidly. He stepped nose-to-nose with Blaise, meaning to be intimidating but knew the frantic look in his eyes gave him away.

"If you tell Pansy-"

"Please," Blaise sighed exasperatedly, "Have you heard the phrase 'don't curse the post owl'? Yeah, that never really sank in with her, and despite everything I do value myself more than others."

"And you called _me_ vain."

"Self-preservation is one of our key Slytherin traits. One that I hold dearly."

They stood there a moment, holding each other's stare until Draco reached out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder to which Blaise rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance and shrugged off his hand.

"Go on and get out of here, if Pansy has any questions I'll cover for you," he paused for a moment to narrow his eyes at Draco, "but I eventually would like to know what's happening. Deal?" He held out his hand stiffly in the short distance between them, and Draco hesitated for a brief moment before giving it a firm shake.

Blaise grinned at him then, and the tension that settled on the Malfoy heir left. "Make it an interesting story."

Draco wondered to himself what Blaise had in mind of what was going on, as he wasn't even so sure himself. He cast him a dismissive grin and moved to exit the dorm's door, whose exit he realized too late was not the widening entrance of their common room, and instead a shimmering blur of colors that churned against each other much like the colors oil makes in water against the sun. As his foot stepped through the doorway, where it should've met the floor, there was no surface and he found himself falling into nothingness all the while Blaise stood there in the dorm, listening to his receding steps.

* * *

_A/N: Well there you have it, my quickest update in months. The next chapter will be up by Monday, stay tuned!_


	8. Here or There

**Union/8**

_A/N: It's with my nerves on the wire I post this. I feel the transition may not fit and will need revision at a later date. Nonetheless, the chapter is here. Happy reading!_

* * *

Surrounded by an unmistakable feeling of comfort wasn't what the young Slytherin was expecting after falling for what seemed to be forever, yet for no time at all. Cold, maybe a pit or an enchanted trunk, a floor made of stone, perhaps. As he came to, he realized he was in fact on stone, or at least his palms were touching it. Slowly, he became aware of himself, being pulled out from the darkness by the smell of crisp winter night air that welcomed him, and a curious sound prickling his ears. The clicking of lips on skin was undeniable, along with the small patches they touched coming alive with warmth. He felt a weight press into his chest and willed his eyes open and find himself in quite a predicament.

What were the odds that the person he had set out to find would be right in front of him, or rather, on top of him? There was no mistaking the eyes of Harry, whose green was unhindered by the dark of the night and fixated directly on him. They were laying down on a blanket of silky material at the top of what Draco came to observe was the Astronomy Tower, of which his hand had strayed past the blanket edge to the gritty floor. Harry had his arms tucked at Draco's sides and his chin rested on his chest as he watched him with a smile playing on his lips.

"I didn't think we'd get a moment alone like this again," he heard him say. He sounded nostalgic, as if they'd made a habit of this before.

The unfamiliarity of the situation must not have sunk into the folds of Draco's brain as he couldn't find anything too wrong about how they were here. Still, he knew this wasn't exactly normal for the two of them. Draco felt his eyes staring at him, clearly expecting an answer. He cleared his throat and moved to rest up on his elbows, causing Harry to shift to his side.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either." He forced himself to sound indifferent despite the ball of nerves in his stomach. It wasn't a lie. He truly never believed there was a moment where he would be in this scenario. Why would he have cared if he lied to this person, of all people anyways? He was pulled back by soft fingers on his chin, turning his face towards the person he still couldn't believe was there.

"You seem so far away," Harry cast his eyes down and quieted his voice to a whisper, "I thought this would be a good thing for us." He brought his gaze back to Draco's and the blond felt a twang of guilt in his chest.

"It is," he rushed out, "It's just I don't exactly get moments like this often," also _not_ a lie, "especially with you." Draco's heart fluttered in his chest as Harry's eyes crinkled in a sad smile.

"I know." Harry laid his head against his shoulder and moved his hand from his chin to gently stroke his neck. "After all the craze of the tournament, and people stop worrying over me so much, we'll get back in the hang of things." He tilted his head up to Draco, who noticed his eyes were beginning to brim red. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much."

Draco kissed him then. Once, and again. It felt like the right thing to do in this moment. His mind was blank, at complete ease in a moment that seemed to come so naturally. He wasn't expecting the lips his touched to be so soft, or for any reason of justification to come to him for acting this way. The way they were here together, there was nothing else he felt he could have done.

He was torn from his bliss by Harry jerking his head away and turning his attention toward the stairs.

"Potter, what-" Harry hushed him and as he did Draco heard the familiar grumbling of the caretaker, Filch, and noticed the growing glow of a lantern crawling up the wall as he drew nearer. Draco's heart quickened at the possibility of him being caught like this with his well-known rival. Definitely not that he didn't want this moment taken away.

He was still going back and forth with himself when Harry acted. He fisted the front of Draco's robes with one hand and the edge of the blanket with his other, and before Draco could think to do otherwise, Harry had flipped them over. Draco was flattened on top of him with the blanket shrouding them both. In the action it took Draco a moment to realize they could peer effortlessly through the delicate fabric.

"Invisibility cloak?" He whispered, and he received a puzzled look from the Gryffindor that suggested he should already know that.

Both of them eyed the top of the stairs, where Filch had appeared and was skulking towards them, swinging his lantern in each direction with Mrs. Norris in tail. The two of them stilled as he was a mere foot away from them, and though he couldn't see them, Mrs. Norris was sniffing where they laid curiously. Draco forced himself to ignore the urge to shift with Harry's breath tickling his neck and couldn't help but feel at odds with himself. In any other situation, he'd have thrown off the cloak or done anything to get the Gryffindor in trouble.

Much to their relief they heard Filch grunt in loss at not finding any misbehaving students and stormed back off down the stairs, shouting that he knew someone was breaking the rules and he would find them sooner or later.

Once the coast was clear, Draco stood to his feet and helped Harry up as well, handing him his cloak.

"Thank goodness for that, I'm not really keen on detention," he said. He tried to ignore the way Harry's eyebrows were knitted together in confusion still. Harry continued to study him, and his lack of response started to make him feel even more nervous than before.

He opened his mouth to say something else but movement in the corner of his vision caught him off guard and he turned quickly back to the stairs to see nothing there.

"Draco."

He turned back to Harry with his eyes wide at hearing his first name come from him. Harry's face turned stern as he stepped closer to the blond.

"There's something not right between us."

_Shit._

"What do you mean?" He had tried to conceal the nervousness that was now inextinguishable, but there was no hiding the wavering in his tone. He saw movement again near the stairs and whipped around just in time to see a shadow cross the very top step and then disappear. "Did you see that?"

"See what? Please, stop." Harry grasped his arm and turned him back around. "You aren't just acting far away. You aren't yourself." He let his arm go and held the cloak out between them. "We've used this cloak at least a dozen times before yet tonight you acted like this was the first time you've seen it. And you haven't called me _Potter _in years!"

This Harry was definitely more alive than the last one he had seen.

"Potter- _Harry_," he corrected himself as Harry's eyes narrowed further at him, "I'm sorry, I've just been… confused, that's all. Recently, with everything." Harry's expression dropped as he said it, and he hugged his arms around himself.

"I understand. I know I've been hot and cold lately. What- what are you doing?" Harry jerked back as Draco whirled around another time, sure as anything that he had seen something at the top of the tower with them. He put his back to Harry and darted his eyes around. "For Merlin's sake, what is it?"

"Don't tell me you didn't see that!" he urged, "There's something there!"

Sure enough, there was a dark blur of a shadow moving towards them. He thrust his arm out to the side instinctively, and Harry shifted back towards the tower wall's shelved edge.

"Stay back!" He wasn't positive whether he was saying so to whatever it was coming for them, or to the boy behind him.

"Draco, there's nothing there. We need to talk about this!" His voice rose in frustration and he tugged on the back of Draco's robes, who had no intention of taking his attention away from whatever was there.

"There is!" His voice was frantic, he knew it. He didn't understand how Potter couldn't see the obvious entity. His heart was hammering in his chest as it drew closer, and a figure of a girl broke through the air abruptly moving toward them with little effort, as if she were gliding between each step. Draco yelled in surprise and fell as she seemed to cross the distance between them in a single step, and before he touched the cold stone of the floor, she shot her palm out to land it solidly on his forehead.

Time as it was had slowed, and he watched as Harry reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, and pulled him up, but he was no longer himself. He was still falling, a feeling of emptying overcoming him through the girl's touch as he saw from a distance the two students continuing to converse.

His focus was brought to the girl who was still pushing into him, moving him further into the ground through the floor of the Astronomy Tower like it was the surface of the lake. In the proximity they were, he recognized her, with her carelessly loose blonde hair, and soft face. The only difference was that her eyes were black as the night sky. He was captivated by them, sinking back into the dark he had been in before.

"Loony?" He said the name aloud before realizing his vision was fading into color and shapes again. He now stood in front of Pansy and the strawberry-haired girl from earlier just outside of the common room. He noticed the perplexed looks of his audience and cleared his throat.

"_Gloomy_, you know, it's a bit gloomy down here in the dungeons. Perhaps we can continue this somewhere else later?" He pulled his lips into a tight smile, still trying to piece together what the hell just happened to him. Striding out the dorm one second, fraternizing with Potter the next, and that Lovegood girl basically exorcising him from where he was? That was it, he was going mad.

The new acquaintance, whose name came to mind as Delma, beamed at him while Pansy's face began to get more splotched with color by the second. Delma left with a small wave to them and a bounce in her step, and Pansy called to her before shooting Draco a heated glare and hurrying after her. The relief that came to him in being alone didn't last long. His heart quickened at the sound of a shuffle against the stone floor behind him, and he turned quickly yet with a sense of caution as he remembered where he had just been, and the shadow that came without a body until it was too late.

* * *

The noise from down in the Gryffindor common room had ascended the stairs and pulled Harry out of a very helpful sleep. He was now flat on his stomach, staring wordlessly at the floor. He felt better, just as Professor McGonagall had said he would, but still certainly not like himself. He had so much raw information running through his head, and the useless work he had put into searching the library before laughed at him. Worst of all, the need to confront Malfoy was an undeniable prod in his side. He needed to find him.

He shifted to sit upright to see it was, in fact, the vial that was prodding him. Harry tossed the vial in his trunk and whipped the familiar old and worn map out and stared at it fervently. He was done waiting around. He was tired of lying to his friends and was going to get to the bottom of this, however he knew he couldn't do it alone. Dumbledore said he was the door, essentially. He had a hunch about who was the key.

He pointed his wand to the map and whispered the incantation, watching the magic ink bleed out onto the surface. Harry searched the map impatiently, pointing his wand to it once again.

"Show me Draco Malfoy."

There he was, unsurprisingly, in the dungeons by Pansy Parkinson and (assumedly)another Slytherin whose name he didn't recognize. It'd be odd for himself to be found there; he would have to have a plan in case he was seen. Harry thought for a moment and grinned proudly at himself as the idea surfaced into his mind. He stuffed the map into his trouser pocket and grabbed his invisibility cloak from his bag. As long as no one saw any doors open suspiciously on their own he should go undetected. Once he got there, he decided, he would keep Dumbledore's information to himself until it became necessary.

Harry rushed through the halls, students and classrooms blurring in his peripheral, stimulated by irritation and impatience to find Malfoy before he moved from his spot on the map. He slowed at the top of the stairs leading down into the dungeons to pull out his map but didn't need the confirmation from the magic ink to recognize the mocking laughter echoing off the walls from the blond he was looking for.

A couple of Slytherins rushed passed him, not noticing his invisible presence, and he stepped gingerly down the steps to the cool floor of the dungeons where he could see his target talking still to the pug-faced girl he so often was around and another, older he guessed, strawberry blonde girl, who was honestly being a champ considering the looks dripping of venom coming from Pansy.

Harry pressed himself against a stone wall under a dim lamp, noticing then how dark it really was down here compared to the upper floors, much like Knockturn Alley versus Hogsmeade, and waited until the other Slytherin girl had left seeming content with her conversation with Malfoy, Pansy giving him a dismissing glare and following after her. He suddenly felt thankful he didn't have to worry about the awkward war between people fighting over him.

He stepped carefully forward but was fooled by the skewed pattern of the stone floor and exclaimed as he staggered over a rock pointing up from the ground.

Malfoy whipped his eyes towards the sound and his eyes widened before narrowing amusedly, at the glint of crimson from the cloak sliding off of Harry's shoulder.

"Spying on me now, Potter?" Draco crossed the floor slowly, trying to piece his own mind together while enjoying the unsure expression on Harry's face peeking out from thin air.

"I'm not spying, I'm just…"

"Following up?" Malfoy had gotten much closer without him realizing, leaning casually against the wall beside where Harry was previously trying to sink himself into as if to make himself more invisible. All the impatience in Harry's mind fizzled out, substituted by a notion he couldn't comprehend. A feeling of expectation mingled with another thing that moved from his chest to his fingers and toes, buzzing like a thousand pixie wings.

Draco didn't falter at the blank stare he gave and reached out to grip at the warped edge of the invisibility cloak Harry wore, and pulled it back over Harry and himself. Harry's mind ticked on for a moment before registering what happened, and his eyes widened at how calm the steely gaze of Draco seemed to be in such an unfamiliar situation. He remembered then what he was there for and a small fire rekindled in his own eyes.

"Yes, actually," he said pointedly, "it's been days since you set me off to search for answers, and-"

"Can people really not see us at all?" Malfoy's eyes travelled along the passing students that moved around them none the wiser of the two of them standing under the torch, blatantly ignoring what Harry started to say.

"No," Harry's lips pulled tight in annoyance, "It's an _invisibility_ cloak for a reason." He turned and made a rather horrifying face at a passing first year to make a point before moving his attention back to the blond. "See? Anyways, listen, I've found a couple things that…" He caught Malfoy's eyes again, finding the blond shifting closer than before, surely to listen.

The flickering of the firelight above them seemed to make the grey of his eyes dance at Harry even more playfully than was intended. He could smell him all around him, the cloak holding in the scent of the Slytherin more concentrated than he would've naturally liked; amber and lavender flooded him and curled around his brain, sending a dampening feeling through his thoughts, almost stalling Harry from what he had been adamantly brought here for.

He swallowed down the dryness creeping up his throat and continued on, "I've found a few things that might help us with what's going on." He forced his eyes to look into the constant leer Malfoy had on him, trying to bring as much of a Hermione-type gaze about himself as he could.

"Is this you trying to corner me?" Malfoy's lips had turned up at him, and his pulled into a frown.

"Would I have heard from you if I hadn't? You seem to be keeping yourself quite busy!"

"Jealousy, Potter," Malfoy said silkily, running his eyes over him, "Does not look good on you." The blond smirked down at him and spoke once more as Harry made to cut in, "Tell me what we have to work with."

"Right," Harry sucked in a breath, "Listen, I couldn't find much as I'd have liked in the library. There's talk about, on the obvious end, madness or mind-altering charms, and then at the worst what I could find was something called Legilimens-" he saw Draco's brows furrow "-obviously none of those things really describe what's going on here." Harry swallowed again, almost feeling a sinking stone of guilt in his belly for holding back the knowledge he was just given. Almost. He didn't want to let on everything he knew at once. His natural instinct was telling him to have an edge on his usual enemy.

Malfoy pursed his lips and fingered at the hem of the cloak to admire the silky material absentmindedly.

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Try to see this out ourselves." Harry tried to grasp at some kind of witty, smart remark to bring to the table, and failed.

Draco's gaze snapped back up to Harry's, finding the same determination in the emerald gaze as he did in their first games against each other as Seekers.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "All I know is whatever this is happens only when I'm with you-" he paused at Malfoy's face spreading into a smug grin, "which is _not _to say that is a good thing."

"I don't know," Malfoy inched his face towards Harry's, his breath tickling his nose, "I think you forgot, I know what you've seen because I have, too. You certainly didn't mind any of it. Why not use this to my advantage?"

It was like any edge he thought he may have crumbled and sank into nothing. Harry, with his face hot and teeth gritting together, bored his eyes into the Slytherin's.

"I have enough shit to worry about, Malfoy, if you think this is anything but a minor inconvenience to me, you're fooled. I only want to solve whatever this is."

The chuckled that passed through Draco ghosted over Harry's lips and he settled his gaze heavily on him.

"So, if you've really been researching as it sounds like you have, what about the sensations we experienced?"

"Sensations?"

"Like before," Draco said impatiently, "The vertigo, or whatever you want to pin it down to."

"Right, the twirling walls and all that." Harry stated.

"Yes… the twirlies…"

"You know what I mean, you prat."

"Why don't we test it then?"

Harry had not expected this. He zigzagged his eyes up the blond, not really certain where to land them, quite unsure how his own face may be betraying him of his own curiosity on the subject. When he didn't answer, he heard rather than saw Malfoy pull back the sleeve of his robes.

"Potter, look at me."

He raked his eyes against the showing skin of Malfoy's slender forearm.

"My _eyes_." It was tantalizing almost, being directed by the blond. He trailed his eyes up to the ones impatiently waiting for him and felt a wave of realization wash over him like he was a mouse in a trap.

They were in the dungeon halls, underneath his invisibility cloak, free from the impervious stares and dubious onlookers they may find usually. A small thought pulled at him weakly, that maybe he could at least see what happened.

Malfoy held his gaze, and he felt the blond's other hand wrap around his opposite sleeve, moving it towards his bare arm. Harry's heart seemed to control his whole body with how it was reacting. His fingers were already buzzing as they moved towards the milky skin peeking out from Malfoy's robe. As they got closer, he felt the digits stretch out on their own intention and wrap solidly around the arm before him.

It was, to describe crudely, like being submerged in a pool of water.

The air seemed to rise to the top of their bodies, a weight of being holding them in place while the rest of their selves felt suspended. Static ran through Harry's fingertips, running up Draco's forearm and across his chest, neck, and back. In turn, Harry felt a soothing coolness flooding him like thick ink dropping into water. His fingers gripped tighter at the blond's forearm and he felt drawn to the eyes before him. A deep, grey void, a swirling of shades and shadows pulling him closer and strangling his thoughts.

Harry wasn't sure who moved first, perhaps it was him, perhaps Malfoy, but he didn't really care for the detail in the present situation as they started towards each other, both intent on connecting further. He could feel it then, just how the heat blossomed from the blond's lips to his own, prickling up in thorny petals across his cheeks. The ground shifted, or he was made to step back, but the world was moving now. He wasn't sure when his eyes had closed, but he found himself living in another place, where arms were encircling him and branches of desire were forming in his ribcage ready to burst. Harry's mind was reeling in the intoxicating scent of the blond in front of him, his lips tingling disappointedly when Malfoy had suddenly moved away as the silky material of the cloak moved off of them. One of them must have moved wrongly- rightly- but, nonetheless, he was filled with longing when the spinning slowed around him.

The bright flush against the pale cheeks the Malfoy shone like roses on snow as he settled his heavy eyes on him.

"So, it stands to say," Draco brought his hand to clasp Harry's shoulder to steady himself, "that stays the same even after days."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, trying to ignore the dizziness still leaving him, "We should probably find something to fix that."

Malfoy hummed to himself, pausing his eyes on the lips his had just left.

"I don't know," the blond leaned in once again and planted a kiss without an ounce of hesitation firmly against his dumfounded lips, "I think I'm still benefitting from this more than not."

All of what was happening seemed completely unreal to Harry. For one, how he himself felt, but Malfoy's reciprocation was even more unprecedented. Sure, Harry's subconscious had been cruel in toying his mind in making him believe he wanted something like this to happen, but it was far in the wastelands of his mind did he think an even semi-positive reaction may come from the blond.

Harry also realized that he felt, to say the least, good. The weighty tiredness that dragged behind him like chains for the past few days was lifted, and the empty feeling that pitted in his stomach seemed to have disappeared.

The both of them were taken from their trance by a low, hearty chuckle from across the hall and they both turned their gaze to see Blaise Zambini smiling devilishly at the two of them.

"Save it for the ball, you two. A day's worth of hours and you can teach not one, but three schools the meaning of envy." He shook his head at them in amusement and turned toward the Slytherin common room, leaving the two of them staring wide-eyed after him.

Harry let go of Draco's arm and stumbled forward, his eyes darting around the dungeon corridor.

"_No_."

"What do you mean 'no'? He just spotted us chatting pretty much, it's nothing I can't explain. It'll be his life if he says a word to Pansy." He watched half amused as Harry gestured around the hall to him.

"Tell me what you see?" he pleaded.

Draco looked at the frantic expression on his face, and it reminded him much of himself not that long ago, in that other place. He humored him and swept his eyes around the corridor. It was, to say… Dirty. The creases of the stones on the ground were filled with dust and mud from the soles of other students' shoes, from tracked in snow and dirt. The scent of old earth wafted over him and he wrinkled his nose in disgust, turning his gaze to Harry again. These were all things he had noticed once before, but now strangely popped out at him.

"If you're feeling sorry for me about living in a dungeon…"

Harry looked at him, defeated.

"You really can't tell?"

"Tell? Stop messing with me, I know we're supposed to work together but…" Draco watched Harry look nervously around them and his nerves started to spark back to life. "What are _you_ not telling me?"

"We're here."

He wasn't sure why, but a heavy cold settled in his feet. He grasped the front of Harry's robes and pulled him to face him.

"Where exactly _are we_?" He searched his face for answers, only to find more questions pop in his mind.

If Draco hadn't known any better, he'd say the look Harry gave him made him look like a bird who had flown into a window with no way to get out. For him being the Gryffindor wizard that bravely approached any task, even blindly on a hunch, even a damned dragon just a month ago, that struck a cord in Draco deeply.

Harry met his gaze then, and the guilt he had been willing away was now clouding in his darkening green eyes. "We're there."

* * *

_A/N: I have about two handfuls of family events this month, but I'm working on the next chapter now, I expect it to be up in the middle of next week. Thank you!_


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